


Masters of Manipulation

by NerysDax



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:55:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 161,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27307354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerysDax/pseuds/NerysDax
Summary: A true manipulator will control the universe, but who will achieve the wanted mastership? Hermione suddenly finds herself opposing Tom Riddle in a quest for knowledge banned by the Founders of Hogwarts. Can she stop the heir before he becomes invincible?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Spoilers:** All Harry Potter books, including Deathly Hallows. Do not read this story unless you're finished with it, because the spoilers are major ones!

**Disclaimer** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's note:** This story contains bits and pieces of the final Harry Potter book to serve as identification to where and when you are. If you have not read Deathly Hallows, it will sometimes be difficult to follow this fanfic, but not impossible.

I am not a native English speaker, so I beg your pardon for any errors you may have to suffer through, but I hope you will still enjoy the story.

**Ship:** Tom Riddle - Hermione Granger

* * *

**Masters of manipulation**

**Chapter one**

The Slytherin Common Room was always a very neat, quiet and comfortable place to retreat to. The low-ceiling, dungeon-like room appeared set for intrigues and plotting of plans. The green leather chairs, black leather couches and hard wooden tables were situated in a way that permitted a private conversation to be held in an otherwise crowded room. And the dimmed lighting of the underground place enhanced said impression of privacy. Under normal circumstances the Common Room would have been crowded at this time of day, but not right now. At this very moment, it was not only eerily empty, but also very much in shambles.

Only one hour ago students with green and silver crests on their uniforms could have been seen vacating the room in a hurry, trying to get away from the source of the destruction, hoping not to accidentally cross the path of any of the spells that came from the 13 ½ inch yew wand, whose owner was notorious for his bad temper, not to mention his unforgiving nature. Yes, every Slytherin was very much aware of the fact that it was best to be elsewhere when Tom Marvolo Riddle drew a little temper tantrum. And today the mood of the seventeen year old Hogwarts' Head Boy was beyond angry, beyond patience, beyond restraint, beyond his usual cool and collective demeanour.

It had, after all, taken him ages to find the blasted book upon hearing of its existence, and now, there was nothing written in it. He flipped it back and forth, while reading the author's name with dark furious eyes, contemplating an unholy book-burning session in his mind. He had used several charms and spells on the book (some not so legal but nobody was looking). He tried revealing potions. He had taken almost a week the time to check whether it had some sort of space-time-continuum-spell on it, which would have made it only readable at a specific point in time and place, but that had not been the case, since his timer hadn't moved an inch. He had written in it, drew his blood on it, got someone else's blood to be spilt on the pages, tried fire, water, earth, wind as revealers, resorted to use every Dark Arts Spell he knew, and still nothing. The book just wouldn't buckle. He hit himself across his forehead with it out of sheer frustration, but that didn't do the trick either, and now, he also had to deal with the upcoming headache, since the book was a rather large and thick volume.

'This just couldn't be,' he thought to himself, while rubbing his hands through his jet-black hair causing it to become quite messy. 'I'm Lord Voldemort, heir to Salazar Slytherin. I'm not going to be defeated by a stupid book.'

But after staring at it for a long time without so much as a single idea popping to mind on how to make it work, the book came out victorious and the heir threw it furiously in his schoolbag hoping to someday come across some kind of information that would help him unlock its secrets.

* * *

'He's coming! Hermione, he's coming!'

She heard the panic in Harry's voice when the snake fell, hissing wildly. Everything was chaos. She shrieked with pain as a rough hand grabbed her collar and pulled her backwards over the bed. Harry was dragging her away, and while he took a running leap, Nagini struck again.

'Confringo!' Hermione screamed, and her charm flew around the room, blasting everything away in its path.

Harry jumped through the window on the first floor, pulling her with him, and she felt pieces of broken glass cut her skin. Her scream reverberated through the night as they twisted in mid-air… And for a second she saw the long, white hands clutching at the window sill. A pair of red eyes looked straight at her and his scream of rage mingled with her fearful one, when she and Harry vanished with a small pop.

They landed on a snowy hillside somewhere. Hermione jumped up, raised her wand and immediately set the wards to protect them, before she noticed Harry wasn't moving. She knelled down and looked at her seemingly unconscious friend with dread.

'Harry! Wake up! Harry!'

She shook him firmly, but he did not wake. His cheeks were pale and his lips were slowly turning blue, so she flashed her wand again and their tent appeared around them. She levitated Harry unto one of the lower bunks and placed as many blankets as she could find on top of him. He was mumbling incoherently, while his body was trashing and writhing. Anxiously, she watched him. He appeared very ill, almost feverish, and after some time his mumbling became more outspoken, she could understand what he said and it scared the living daylights out of her.

'Harry!' Hermione yelled, hearing him speak the words someone else had spoken.

' _Stand aside, you silly girl, stand aside now…'_

'Harry, please…wake up…it's not real,' Hermione begged, trying desperately to get the locket Horcrux of him, but it had somehow dug itself deep into Harry's skin.

' _This is my last warning…,'_ heard Hermione come from Harry's mouth in a cold, harsh tone.

She pulled the locket's chain of Harry's neck and wrapped it around in her left hand, while she raised her wand at Harry's chest.

' _Stand aside – stand aside, girl –.'_

Hermione hesitated and closed her eyes, appalled at what she was about to do. She breathed in deeply.

' _Avada Kedavra.'_

Harry's mouth vocalising the unforgivable curse broke her out of her hesitation and with a swift move she used a Severing Charm to cut the locket out of Harry's flesh. Blood spat all around her as she held the locket ever so tightly in her left hand. Harry's chest was haemorrhaging severely and she knew she had little time. She raised her wand and started to chant in a sing-song voice. After a couple of minutes the bleeding stopped, the wound was closing and a burn mark, at the precise spot where the Horcrux had been, was the only witness remaining.

'No,' Harry moaned. 'No…'

'Harry, it's all right, you're all right!' Hermione said.

'No… I dropped it…I dropped it…'

'Harry, it's OK, wake up, wake up!' And then, she saw him open his eyes. 'Harry,' Hermione whispered. 'Do you feel all – all right?'

'Yes.'

It was obvious he lied, even to someone unskilled in Leglimency as her, but she let it slide.

'We got away,' he said.

'Yes,' she answered, and Hermione explained what happened.

She could tell Harry was upset over the destruction of his wand and that he blamed her, but she could not change what happened. She could not undo the Blasting Charm she used to ward off Nagini, which destroyed Harry's wand along with a lot of other stuff. Harry took the first watch that night. And she tossed and turned in her bunk, having a hard time to fall asleep.

The next day Harry's mood was equally horrible. Hermione had snatched Rita Skeeter's book with her from Bathilda Bagshot's cottage, when they made their narrow escape out of Lord Voldemort's clutches, and reading The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore was not doing wonders for Harry's temper.

'Harry, this is Rita Skeeter writing,' Hermione said hesitatingly.

'You did read that letter to Grindelwald, didn't you?' Harry said harshly.

He was angry with Dumbledore for all his secrecy, and the more she tried to convince Harry Dumbledore had his best interest at heart, the more Harry opposed her.

'I don't believe it,' said Hermione. 'The Dumbledore we knew would never, ever have allowed –'

'The Dumbledore we thought we knew didn't want to conquer Muggles by force!' Harry shouted, and Hermione argued back.

'Look at what he asked from me, Hermione! Risk your life, Harry! And again! And again! And don't expect me to explain everything, just trust me blindly, trust that I know what I'm doing, trust me enough even though I don't trust you! Never the whole truth! Never!'

His voice cracked with the strain, and Hermione wanted nothing more than to take away his hurt, his pain at the betrayal he felt. 'He loved you,' she whispered. 'I know he loved you.'

But she knew it was pointless, the words were empty to him now, meaningless. And eventually they abandoned their debate in silence, taking turn in pocketing the Horcrux and watching the environment for stray wanderers, Death Eaters or worse. Her watch was moving along quietly, and she was huddled in the entrance of the tent, reading A History of Magic by the light of her wand, when she heard the rustle of feathers. She almost shrieked from the sudden noise, but calmed down when she looked around the flap of the tent and saw the brown owl seated on a large packet. It held out its paw and apprehensively she took the letter attached to it. In a very, neat, small handwriting, which she did not recognise, it said _"Hermione Jean Granger"._

'Thank you, I'm afraid I don't have any owl treats on me,' she said to the now cross looking owl. It bit her sharply, before flying off.

With the letter in hand, she eyed the parcel suspiciously. She was considering waking up Harry, but a soft voice in her head reminded her of their arguing, and she really felt like she could not take any more of that right now, so she decided to let Harry sleep.

'Who would want to send me a package? Maybe it's from Ron, trying to apologise for leaving us,' she thought hopefully.

The little voice in her head laughed.

'Us? Don't you mean you? Face it, Hermione, Ron would never have left Harry if you weren't around. Harry is his best friend, his mate. The only one he ever cared about. He left because of _you_. He had enough of _you_ , your Know-It-All attitude, your constant bickering. You did nothing but underestimate him, put him down, and you think he would send you something?' You think he's sorry he left?'

The cruel voice started laughing again after the scornful statements it made. When it was done laughing, it added some more painful observations, which broke her heart.

'He never really loved you. Don't you see that now? Are you that blind? You don't leave someone you love alone when they are in life threatening danger, now do you? You could have died yesterday, while fighting that snake and almost getting caught by Lord Voldemort. And where was he? Getting his pure-blood arse wiped by his mummy? Looking for ways to return to Hogwarts, so he can be with that Brown girl? After all, she is much nicer to him and a lot prettier than you, but if _you_ want to keep on deluding yourself…'

A single tear ran down her cheek and the small voice inside her head snorted. A burst of anger flushed through her and she shouted back at the Horcrux' voice inside her head.

'Shut up, Riddle! I know it's you. It's not working! So just keep your big mouth shut!'

'Can't stomach the truth, dear? Is it too hard for you to handle, Mudblood? Ronald left you alone with Mister Unstable, who never listens to a word you say. And let's get real here. Why should he? It's not as if you're right all the time. Do you know how annoying you can be, when you're like that? Always knowing what to do… Always wanting the last word… Never let someone else finish a thought for a chan…'

She reached inside her pocket and threw the locket of Salazar Slytherin into the tent, furiously. It landed with a loud crash against Harry's bunk, but he merely turned, mumbling in his sleep.

'I said… Shut up!' she said through gritted teeth at the now dormant voice.

The emeralds on the locket were sparkling in the light of her wand. It was almost like they were mocking her outburst, her lack of self-control. Hermione turned her attention back towards the package and the letter accompanying it. Hoping it would distract her enough to take her mind of Riddle's taunting voice, she pointed her wand at them and uttered a spell to check if it was something dangerous. Nothing happened. She sighed out of sheer relieve. It was not send by an enemy. She opened the letter first.

_Dear Hermione Jean Granger,_

_Some time ago I discovered this book behind the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw. Considering the current regime at Hogwarts I feel it is necessary to dispose of_ _f this book, before it falls into the wrong hands. I am sure you can appreciate my sentiment._

_I won't deny_ _, however, that it is also of no value to me anymore. So I decided to roll the dice and give you a chance with it. If I am right, you're the one who'd have the intelligence to unlock the secrets said lay beneath these seemingly blank pages. And I honestly hope it will help you achieve your goals in life._

_Despite that, I think it is only fair to warn you about the dangers surrounding the owners of this volume. People have killed to obtain it in the past and I am sure the knowledge inside still holds a fast amount of attraction to those unable to grasp and handle its true meaning._

_Therefore it would be prudent to keep it safe from prying eyes. I fear there is also the question of the slight illegality of the contents of this book. Not that the current administration would mind, but others might misinterpret your motives for having this and it is something you'd do well to remember._

_You'll understand what kind of problems I'm referring t_ _oo once you've seen the title and the author's name._

_Sincerely yours,_

_a_ _n old friend._

'Weird,' was all she thought.

Hermione read the letter again before she unwrapped the brown paper and took off the lit of the box underneath. With a scream she dropped the box, and the book along with it, and jumped back afraid of somehow being tainted by it. At the sound of her voice, Harry flew out of his bunk, thinking they were under attack. He reached for his wand, only to remember it was broken, and he ran towards her.

'Hermione?' he asked anxiously.

'Look,' she pointed down to the rubble on the floor; her face was as white as a newly bought sheet.

Between the pieces of torn paper and a shattered cardboard box lay a large, thick, green leather volume. On the cover there was a picture of two silver snakes curled around each other in a circle eating their respective tails and in silvery letters the title and author's name were written. It said: "Eternity in Time by Salazar Slytherin".

'Where did you get this?' Harry asked, worried.

'Someone sent it to me by owl.'

Upon seeing the look on Harry's face at her recklessness, she quickly reassured him: 'I checked… I checked… It did not come from an enemy, Harry. Look.'

She held out the letter towards him. Harry did not look at ease, but he accepted the letter nevertheless and started to read it. After he was finished reading it, his eyes darted from the book towards the letter.

'It looks like someone was trying to keep this out of Snape's hands,' he said thoughtfully.

'And by doing so out of You-Know-Who's grasp as well,' Hermione added.

Harry nodded and said: 'I think it is safe to assume he would definitely kill to get his hands on this book, being Salazar's heir and all. I wonder who sent it to you though.'

'Well,' Hermione started, getting into her normal Know-It-All mode, 'he or she found the book behind Rowena's statue, which is located in the Ravenclaw Common Room, so it most likely is someone from that House, but who…?'

They both stared at the letter.

'An old friend?' Harry said puzzled. 'Perhaps somebody from the DA?'

They, quickly, recalled the names of every Ravenclaw that joined. 'Luna!' they both said simultaneously.

But upon reading the letter again, Hermione wasn't so sure. 'It's too formal for her, Harry.'

Harry, however, was convinced it was Luna Lovegood who sent them the book. He felt she was the only one in Ravenclaw who would have thought the book would help them and he countered Hermione's statement of the formality of the letter.

'She might have done that on purpose, Hermione, to avoid detection in case the owl got intercepted. That's probably also why it was not signed. I mean, really, all this going on about how people will not see the true meaning … that is so Luna. She probably thinks this book provides proof for the existence of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack or something similarly far-fetched.'

Hermione still was not convinced, but she had no solid proof to the contrary, at least not enough to change Harry's mind on the subject, and since she had no idea as to who else could have been the author of the letter, she dropped the argument and reached out to grab Salazar's novel. Though a lingering doubt, concerning the true intentions of the 'old friend', remained in the back of her mind as she opened the book. The pages were made of a thick, expensive type of parchment coloured yellow due to its old age. They were also very blank. Hermione flipped through the book extensively, but there was not a single word visible.

'Disappointing. No wonder she had no more use for it,' Harry said ironically.

Hermione ignored him and went back into the tent to retrieve her small beaded handbag. Harry already knew that bag resembled a bottomless pit when it came down to containing stuff. Hermione had charmed it to shrink everything that went into it, and he was curious what she would pull out of there that could assist them in obtaining the knowledge inside the book.

She frowned at the various potions bottles she obtained from her bag, and decided on a purplish coloured one. After hours and hours of no result, Harry lost interest and started to check to perimeter of the wards again. Hermione growled at the book and was getting rather frustrated by it. She had used every charm, spell, hex, jinx, and curse she could think of. She had used potions and Arithmancy. She had drawn her blood in there. She had tried her red Revealer, which was rewarded by a snicker from Harry. But he stopped laughing and stumbled out of the tent, mumbling something about checking the wards, after she gave him a stern glare. Hermione took a hold of the letter again. She had the distinct feeling the author of that letter knew how to reveal the contents and was handing over clues.

'Unlock the secrets said lay beneath the seemingly blank pages,' Hermione read out loud.

'It's a strange sentence,' she thought, and her eyes darted back towards the green volume. 'Unlock the secrets…'

Slowly, she reached inside her bag again and pulled out a quill and ink. Hesitantly, she dipped the quill in the ink, opened the book at the first page and held the quill above it.

'This is a bad idea, Hermione, a really, really bad idea,' she thought, just before writing down: _'unlock the secrets'_ inside Eternity in Time.

She held her breath, but nothing happened. It was when she remembered Salazar Slytherin's numerous achievements in decoding and his preference for Runes, so she tried again. 'Unlock the secrets,' she wrote, but this time she scribbled down the Runes for secrets and unlocking beneath the English line that was already there.

Still nothing… She had been sure this had to be it. Furiously, she slammed her head against the book, but that did not help either. And now, her head was pounding from something else besides frustration, since the book was rather solid and her head not accustomed to receive blows from this magnitude. Harry returned from his ward inspection and he was eyeing her warily.

'What?' she snapped rather annoyed.

'I'm holding the Horcrux, so why are you acting like your about to attack me?' Harry asked, taking a step backwards showing her his palms in the process.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. 'This blasted book won't budge. I was sure I had it though. Sure, it would work once I wrote the sentence down,' she whispered.

'YOU WROTE IN IT?! After what happened to Ginny and that… that other nutter from Slytherin? Are you mental?!' Harry shouted, like he was channelling Ron's spirit for a moment.

'Well, it didn't work, nothing happened…' she grudgingly admitted. 'I was sure though. Salazar was known for this kind of thing and…' Hermione rammed her hand to her forehead. 'I'm so stupid, of course… that has to be it. Harry, can you write unlock the secrets in Parseltongue?' She looked up expectantly.

'Hermione,' Harry began warningly. 'You _do_ remember, don't you?'

'Yes,' she said impatient, 'but that was different. Ginny did not know whose journal she had and it is not like this is a Horcrux. Otherwise that damn thing over there would have responded to it. We know Salazar Slytherin wrote this book and it's probably only charmed to protect the contents from people he would deem unworthy.'

'People like me,' she thought to herself, before she shared her next revelation with Harry.

'Surely he would have thought by using Parseltongue only his kind would be able to read the book, rendering it safe from _prying eyes_. Of course, it all fits now. Harry, please? There might be something in here that can help us destroy that thing.'

And she nodded towards Harry's pocket she knew the Horcrux rested in. She waited for Harry's response with a pleading, yet excited look on her face as she held out the book and quill towards him. He furrowed his brows, but took the book and quill from her anyway.

'I'm not sure I can write Parseltongue,' he said worriedly. 'I am having problems speaking it if I don't see a snake either.'

'Look at the snakes on the cover and then try,' Hermione suggested helpfully.

Harry sighed and stared at the book's cover for a moment. Suddenly, he opened it and started writing. Hermione was standing next to him, looking over his shoulder to see the end-result. In a strange, fluent, snakelike script, three words were written. Three words, Hermione knew, meant unlock the secrets. But nothing happened. Hermione grabbed the book and threw it in her beaded bag with a growl. She had never been so angry before. It was a frightening sight.

'We have to find a way to get rid of that damn Horcrux. I don't think I…' She stopped before finishing her sentence and tried to calm down.

'This is how Harry's been feeling ever since the resurrection of Voldemort. He had to deal with Riddle's temper inside himself for all this time now,' she reminded herself. 'I can do this too.' She placed her hands on her belly, closed her eyes, focused on happier thoughts and exhaled deeply in order to control her emotions. 'I can do this,' she thought determinately.

A loud crack outside the tent shook them both up. Hermione ran outside, her wand at the ready, but there was nothing to see.

'Let's get out of here!' Harry shouted in her ear, having joined her, viewing their seemingly vacant surroundings worriedly. 'I thought I heard something before, but wasn't sure…'

'You too?' Hermione said shocked. 'Last night I thought I heard whispers.'

'That's it. We're leaving,' Harry commanded, handing her the bag.

Hermione swung her wand around, and suddenly, the tent disappeared inside the bag. She pulled out the invisibility cloak and handed it to Harry. 'Just to be safe.'

They disappeared underneath it, just before Disapparating.

'The forest of Dean,' Hermione thought, while holding on to Harry's hand.

But things went terribly wrong. She felt something pull at her. An unforeseen force yanked her in a different direction as Harry and she lost contact with his hand. A bright, silver light surrounded her. And not only did her body feel the familiar Apparation sensations of being crushed together, she also felt the world swirling around her quite similar to her third year when she had use of the Time-Turner. Only this time, it was far worse. She began to feel seriously sick, nauseatingly dizzy and she was sure she would lose consciousness if this would not stop soon.

The events were not something she could have foreseen, since the real use of Eternity in Time had remained a closely guarded secret throughout history. However, she had unknowingly finished up all the requirements the book needed to activate. Her blood was on the pages, the three languages written down and the final step was simply Apparation. So when Hermione started the Apparition process, the three sentences inside Slytherin's work began to rearrange themselves amongst each other and her blood in there pulled her away from Harry. The words duplicated and the letters started shifting position and began filling the other pages.

When every page was filled, the portal closed and a considerable force tossed her into a dark corridor. Unable to keep her footing, she crashed into the wall, dropped her beaded handbag, and smashed down on her knees to the floor with a loud groan. The world was still spinning, and her arms went to her head, covering and holding it tightly, trying to stop the overwhelming sensation of disorientation, pain, nausea and dizziness.

'Miss?' a male voice asked curiously. 'Are you all right?'

Hermione heard the words spoken to her in a soft whisper, but she did not feel like responding just yet, and she bowed forward to empty her stomach contents.

'Miss.'

She heard a hint of annoyance in the tone now when the unknown person pulled her to her feet and grabbed her arms to push her back into the cold wall behind her. She leaned her head against it, because the cold was soothing the discomfort her brain was giving her. And she closed her eyes, telling herself that when she opened them again everything around her would remain still and motionless.

'Answer me.'

The demand irked her beyond anything else and she opened her eyes to stare into the darkest ones she had ever seen. They belonged to a tall, rather pale looking, black haired fellow, who would have been quite handsome where it not for the aura of arrogance that seemed to cling around him. She felt an immediate and utter dislike soar through her body and it tainted her response sincerely.

'In case _you_ haven't noticed … I am not feeling particularly well at the moment, so excuse me for not kissing your boots straight away and replying,' Hermione said sarcastically.

A smirk started to grace his features, but before he could respond to her impolite reply, an alarmed expression ran over her face and she pulled loose from his hold, grabbed his right arm with her left hand before curving over sideways to throw up again. She nearly toppled over, but he had seized her around the waist and held her up. She was still squeezing his arm tightly with her hand, even though he had her pinned down firmly against himself, and there was no way she could fall.

However, the corridor had taken it upon itself to start spinning wildly once more and it was freaking her out severely. She had the distinct feeling it wasn't going to stop anytime soon and she leaned into the one person that seemed to steady her, which, unfortunately, happened to be the bloke she did not like at all. And it soon became quite clear why that was the case.

'I need that arm.'

Hermione did not move.

'Let go, _woman_ , unless you want to get better acquainted with the floor.'

She sighed, but released his arm nevertheless. 'Try not to have a cow, _man_ , I am dizzy as hell,' she replied, emphasising on the pronoun as well.

'Yeah, I can tell,' he stated shortly.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the movement of his arm, and she froze out of shock, when she saw the flash that came from his wand a fraction of a second before the spell impacted on her body. All her symptoms increased by tenfold, her senses became severely impaired, an agonising, maddening pressure was building up inside of her, she felt like she was on the brink of passing out completely, and all she could think was… 'Well, that's what you get, Hermione, for not listening to your mother and hanging on to strange wizards.'

The feeling lasted for a minute, maybe two, but it felt like forever and it was most definitely not an experience Hermione cared to repeat. She was panting heavily and the git, who had the nerve to curse her, had both his arms wrapped around her again. How he got rid off and pulled out his wand so quickly was beyond her. She pushed him away harshly, fuming.

'How dare you curse me without so … so much as a warning or provocation?' Hermione stood up straight, placed her hands at her sides and stared furiously at his face, really wanting to hit that smug expression into the next era.

'Feeling better?'

A small smile crept up at the young man's face, and after seeing the astonished look appear on hers, he was clearly eyeing her with a lot of amusement. Unknowingly she started tapping her foot, and he laughed out loud now. 'Now, now… It really isn't polite to be angry with your saviour, now is it?' he said tauntingly.

Hermione drew her wand with a swift motion and tapped it into his chest a couple of times, while moving towards him. He took an involuntary step backwards before regaining his composure and gave her a look that in the future would make grown man piss in their pants if they saw it, but right now his menacing expression did not impress Hermione at all, since she had no idea who she was dealing with.

'Now, you listen, Mister Who-Ever-You-Are.' And she pushed the tip of her wand in his chest again to underline her statement. ' _I_ do not take kindly to people cursing me. Nor do I agree with your assessment that it is polite to do so without the explicit permission of the party to be cursed, even if _you_ think it's supposed to be helpful. And let's not forget that the use of The Dark Arts on someone rarely ever qualifies as saving them. So spare me the crap you were planning to serve, because we both know what spell you just used.'

For a moment there was surprise in his eyes at Hermione's last statement, but it was gone and replaced by a blank expression in no time. 'Now, I would love to clear something up for you, Miss Appears-Out-Of-Thin-Air-And-Was-Rather-Left-For-Death. But first, what is your name?' And his hand slowly moved around her wand-hand, pulling it down to her side.

'I am Hermione.'

'Hermione who?'

'Just Hermione, and you are?' she defiantly added.

'Well, Hermione Just,' he mocked, 'my name is Tom None-Of-Your-Business-Either. And just so _we_ understand each other … I don't know how you got here, and frankly, I don't care if your obviously, illegal, Dark Arts way to travel to this castle made you sick, but it would be prudent for you to understand that I have a responsibility as Head Boy, and it is my duty to look after the safety of the students here in Hogwarts and that includes protecting…'

'Hogwarts?' Hermione interrupted him anxiously, and her eyes darted the corridor left and right. 'That can't be. You can't Apparate inside this castle.'

'No kidding. I doubt what you did will qualify as Apparition,' was the dry response she got.

Now, Hermione eyed the alleged Head Boy more closely. She noticed his wand was hanging by his side in his hand and she wondered how long it had been there, because she hadn't detected him drawing it. He definitely was wearing the school uniform and she merely rolled her eyes at the very in character Slytherin crest. No wonder he was so bloody annoying. The Head Boy badge also seemed the genuine deal, and he looked like he had the right age… And the corridor, she was in, was oddly familiar, but…

A very uncomfortable feeling rushed over her. 'This can't be Hogwarts. I can't be at Hogwarts. Not after it's been taken over by…' Hermione ranted, before she fell silent.

She eyed the Head Boy suspiciously. 'Who are you, really? I don't remember any Toms or recall seeing you before, and you've got to be in your seventh year to make Head Boy, so I must have...'

She looked at the corridor again, not noticing her look of suspicion was now mirrored in Tom's eyes. She took a couple of steps to look around the corner and what she saw was not at all setting her mind at ease.

'Merlin's pants!' Hermione shrieked. 'No, no, no, no, no… I cannot be here…'

She shook her head sideways in disbelieve of the predicament she thought herself to be in, and her hands rubbed through her hair in frustration.

'I'll be dead before nightfall. No, I'll be tortured first and then killed before nightfall. Snape will find me and then I'm doomed,' Hermione mumbled to herself.

'Who is Snape?' Tom asked.

'What?' Hermione said, stunned.

'Who is Snape and why would someone want to torture and kill you?' Tom repeated demanding.

Hermione's jaw dropped several inches. 'What in Godric's name is going on here?!' she yelled.

'Mister Riddle, care to inform me who that lovely lady is you're talking to?'

She saw Tom's eyes darken further at hearing the sound of Albus Dumbledore's voice, and fortunately for Hermione, Tom turned around to face the deputy Headmaster, so he missed the entire spectrum of emotions that Hermione exhibited. She felt like someone had just dumped an entire bucket of ice down her spine when she realised who she had been engaged in conversation with all this time and how close she had gotten to giving him vital information about his future. She was in the past. The overwhelming evidence to that fact was staring her in the face in the form of a very much younger, and alive, version of her Headmaster. And even though she was glad to see Dumbledore again, she was also worried about the implications of her arrival here. This could turn out an awful lot worse than any accidental mistakes she could have made in her third year with that Time-Turner.

'It must be around 1944 or 1945,' she thought, not recalling quite clearly when Riddle graduated. 'I am more than fifty years in the past. I could do some serious damage to the time-line. Wow, I am even able to achieve the ultimate temporal paradox by preventing my own birth from happening.'

She put the depressing thought aside, considering the present company she was keeping made the thought not so theoretical at all. And Hermione looked up to meet Professor Dumbledore's blue, twinkling eyes. Tom and he had finished their restrained conversation rather quickly, since Riddle had nothing to tell and did not feel like sharing what he did know. Dumbledore smiled at her kindly, but his eyes were looking at her with great curiosity.

'Yes, look into my eyes,' Hermione thought, remembering Dumbledore was an expert Legilimens, and she repeated the next sentence in her mind over and over again. 'I'll tell you everything, but I need help figuring out a cover story for Tom here, because I am drawing up blanks right now.'

After a few silent moments, Dumbledore spoke up. 'Ah… you must be Hermione Evans. I was expecting you, only not today. I guess there was some form of emergency, which contributed to your early arrival and your dishevelled state?'

Hermione merely nodded, wondering where he was going with this.

'That explains it,' he said joyfully.

Hermione noticed Tom did not agree at all, and she had a feeling he merely became more suspicious of her by the minute.

'Tom, if you would be so kind to go over to the Headmaster's office and inform Armando about Hermione Evans's safe arrival, then I will take the liberty of escorting Miss Evans to the guest quarters. I'm sure all the official paperwork can be taken care of tomorrow,' Dumbledore said, winking at her.

'That would be very much appreciated, Professor. I'm quite tired,' Hermione answered.

'Very well, off you go, Tom. And you,' Dumbledore nodded at her, while passing, 'follow me.'

Dumbledore walked away carefree, and Hermione was about to turn and follow him when Tom stopped her by grabbing a hold of her upper arm. He inclined his head toward her ear and whispered softly: 'We are not through talking, Evans.'

He articulated her last name with a slight hint of disbelief in his voice, or so she thought, but there was no time to evaluate her assumptions, since Tom did not linger. He let go of her arm just as abruptly as he got a hold of her, and he swiftly paced into the other direction, leaving Hermione standing rather concerned.

'That man is going to become a serious inconvenience to any good resolves I might hold dear about not interfering with the time-line. You'd better not overstep my boundaries, Lord Voldemort, or you will find that I am capable of doing more than a little damage to your future,' she thought rather recklessly.

The concept of threatening the most feared wizard of all time with the complete and utter screw up of his history, as she knew it, was a nice, relaxing thought for a moment. And she giggled softly at all the possibilities that she knew she really could not venture into. But it was nice to ponder on them, if only for a while. She summoned her beaded bag, that was still resting calmly on the corridor's floor, and followed Dumbledore down the staircase to the guestrooms, wondering if and how she was ever going to get out of this mess.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

 **A/N:** I'd like to thank everyone who has taken the time to review. I really appreciate it.

And I know I'm taking some artistic liberties with the birthdates of several canon characters by placing them all in Tom Riddle's year, but I felt it was nicer to read about them than a couple of OC's instead.

* * *

**Masters of Manipulation**

**Chapter two**

Hermione woke up the next morning feeling slightly disorientated. She yawned and stretched her limbs as she viewed the room more thoroughly than last night. Her talk with Dumbledore had taken quite some time, even though he did not want to hear details of the future, at least not at first. So naturally she had gone straight to bed after their talk in the guest chambers. She had been really tired and had fallen asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

So she was well rested this morning for the first time in a long time coming. Not sleeping in a tent helped and the fact that she no longer had the locket Horcrux in her vicinity might have been a factor also. Hermione realised it felt rather comforting to be back at Hogwarts. Despite the fact that she was in the past, it felt like returning home. Home, without any Death Eaters, well, that is to say without any mature Death Eaters.

It was inconvenient to put it mildly that she had to stumble right into the arms of Lord Voldemort upon arriving here. The ministerial degree on time travel clearly stated that the traveller should avoid being seen. She hoped that only applied for users of a Time-Turner, because otherwise she could be thrown into Azkaban for breaking The Magical Laws Act no. three. After receiving a Time-Turner in her third year, Professor McGonagall had given her strict guidelines on its use and a long speech about a man named Sparrow who was locked up in Azkaban for life, because his neighbour saw him cross the street years before they got to live next-door from each other. And her sighting was not a mere glimpse from an ignorant passer-by, who learnt nothing from her presence. No, she was seen by, and talked to, the two most powerful wizards of her time, Albus Dumbledore and Lord Voldemort. Hermione was sure that alone was reason enough for the Ministry of Magic to have her rot away in jail for the remainder of her life.

She sighed. 'Of all the people in this school I have to run into _him_. Why… why… why?'

Hermione tried to recall everything she said in the conversation she had with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Most of it would be rather useless to Riddle, since she spent the majority of the time on being sick and the rest of it on arguing with him. She was exceptionally pleased about that. But she did mention Snape's name and she had informed Riddle he was at Hogwarts, all in combination with her possibly getting tortured and killed. Hermione could just hit herself over the head for that one. It definitely was her biggest blunder. If only she could take that one back.

However, it would be a long time coming before Riddle and Snape would finally meet, so she hoped that maybe Riddle would forget the details of her unfortunate slip up. After all, Snape would be a teacher at Hogwarts for several years, so his presence in the castle did not necessarily provide Riddle with the appropriate information. Only if he ever made the link between Hermione Evans and Hermione Granger, and if he recalled her fearful demeanour upon realising where she was, only then would Lord Voldemort have an incredible advantage over Dumbledore with regards to her former Potions Master. For a very brief moment she was satisfied with the excuses she found, but it didn't last long.

'Who are you kidding Hermione?' she told herself. 'Of course he is going to put two and two together. He is not as dim-witted as Crabbe for crying out loud.' She groaned loudly. 'I have to be more careful from now on.'

And she pondered on the conversation she had with Dumbledore. She told him that she was from sometime in the future and instead of Apparating to the location she had previously designated she had arrived here. He told her not to reveal anything and they came up with a cover story.

'Not too many real lies,' Dumbledore said.

So her background was to remain the same for the most part. They decided she previously went to Durmstrang, but that her parents had got wind of the Grindelwald threat and made her transfer to Hogwarts. She chose Durmstrang over Beauxbatons, because Victor had shown her pictures and had told her a lot about the school and its grounds, meaning she should be able to answer any questions correctly. Of course, she had also read The European Magical Education Guide from cover to cover, in which there were three whole chapters dedicated to Durmstrang alone. Hermione felt confident this was not going to be a problem, and as for the rest, well, she never was one to talk a lot about herself. Besides, other people nosing in her business did not worry her too much, although she did feel a little tickle of unease in her stomach at that concept.

After that the topic of her sudden appearance came back up. She described to Dumbledore the events that happened before and during the Apparition process, and when she arrived at the moment she had to let go of Harry's hand due to some unknown force, it came back to her. Eternity in Time ran through her mind and she slapped her hand at her mouth. She was so excited of having discovered the reason behind her predicament that she pulled the book out of her bag and flung it on the table. The warning in the letter about keeping it away from prying eyes was totally forgotten, until she saw the look on Dumbledore's face at the sight of Salazar's little masterwork. Hermione had never seen Dumbledore angry before, but she did not relish the sight.

'Who are you, young lady? And how did you obtain this…?' He stopped before finishing the sentence.

Hermione had the distinct feeling he withheld something from her on purpose there, and Harry's tirade came back to mind. 'Never the whole truth. The Dumbledore we thought we knew…'

'I already told you. I'm Hermione Granger. I'm from 1997, and this book was Owled to me by a friend.'

'A friend?' Dumbledore sounded sceptical.

Her face paled up and she was wringing her hands under the table subconsciously.

'Well, I actually don't know who send it,' she admitted whispering, and she bit her lip. 'But the letter was signed by someone who called him or herself an old friend. Why? Is something wrong with the book?' Hermione became frantic at the thought of having done something bad.

'No friend would Owl this book, unless…' Dumbledore looked at her thoughtfully, but after a moment of silence, he continued with a harsh tone in his voice. 'I am going to ask you a question, Miss Granger, and I want you to look me straight in the eye. Any sign of Occlumency and this conversation is over, and you can finish it with the Aurors. Do you understand?'

Perplexed, she looked at her former Headmaster and she merely nodded. She felt really small and it was like she, suddenly, developed an inability to speak.

'How well versed in the Dark Arts are you?'

'WHAT!' Hermione shouted and jumped up.

The chair toppled over due to her movement, and she stared at him with sincere outrage in her eyes. 'This is ridiculous,' Hermione thought furiously. 'I have never, ever wanted to hurt someone. Well… there had been Umbridge, of course, but she had it coming for hurting Harry and the others … or Marietta … and I did hit Malfoy, that nasty little ferret, and maybe I cursed Lavender for dating Ron, and Ron for dating Lavender, but really… it was nothing serious.'

More memories started flashing before her eyes. 'A troll attacking her, and Ron struck down by the queen…brewing Polyjuice Potion…a pair of big yellow eyes…a Dementor on the train… Harry falling… rescuing Sirius from the tower… Victor kissing her… Harry rocking Cedric's dead body… Hagrid showing them his brother…Harry clutching onto his scar… McGonagall getting struck by four stunners… Bellatrix mocking Harry… getting hit by Dolohov's curse… Snape running past her towards the Headmaster's office… the funeral… Obliviating her parents… sitting on the Thestral behind Kingsley and getting attacked by Voldemort… Magic is Might… the locket… Ron leaving… And there was the snake attacking Harry, and Voldemort looking at her, screaming in fury…'

Her thoughts scattered from one to the next, and she realised she wasn't the one going through them. 'A brown owl sitting on a parcel… the letter… dropping the book… Harry writing in it… Apparating underneath the invisibility cloak.'

With a jolt, it was over. Dumbledore was out of her mind and thoughts. She barely grabbed a hold of the table on time to prevent a fall, and she was sweating profusely and breathing heavily. Hermione noticed she could not stop her body from shaking like a leaf. Harry had complained many times about the lessons with Snape, but she had always cast his complaints aside and told him he needed to study. She wondered if this was how Harry felt every time Voldemort entered his mind. It was most unpleasant. An arm helped her up and directed her back into her chair.

'It appears I owe you an apology, Miss Granger,' Dumbledore said calmly.

He handed her a cup filled with hot chocolate milk. 'This will make you feel better.'

Hermione held onto the cup with both hands and took a sip. He was right. It did help and she took another sip.

'I am truly sorry for putting you through that, but I had to be sure. This book has been the cause of mayhem ever since its existence. The threat it possesses…' Dumbledore shook his head. 'But you do not seek it. Can you show me the letter that came with it?'

She set down her cup, picked up her bag and ruffled through it. Upon finding the desired letter, she handed it over and picked up her cup again to finish her drink. It was warming her up and that was a soothing feeling. Dumbledore furrowed his eyebrows upon reading the letter. He was finished with it at the same time she finished her cocoa. With a sigh, he gave her the letter back.

'Professor, do you know who could have send it to me and why?' she asked him.

He gave her a calculated look, and his eyes looked concerned before responding. 'The handwriting seems somewhat familiar, but I can't be sure. And I'm not going to speculate,' he added, holding up his hand when he noticed, she was about to interrupt him. 'As to why, I am even deeper in the dark.' He was eyeing her thoughtfully, but the twinkle in them had returned. 'I guess we just have to wait and see how things unfold.'

This explanation did not sit well with Hermione at all. 'But Sir, if it was not a friend…'

She bit her lip and some disturbing thoughts came to mind. 'A book written by Salazar Slytherin. Her arrival at Hogwarts in 1944, straight into the arms of a certain heir. Dumbledore recognising the script. Merlin. It couldn't be, could it? But why?'

She looked at Dumbledore and spoke up. 'This doesn't make sense. I'm a Mudblood. I stand for everything he despises. Why send me something that belonged to Great Salazar Slytherin?' She could not help saying the last three words with a healthy dose of sarcasm. 'What's wrong with this book? Is it cursed or something like that?' And she eyed the volume with utter distaste.

Dumbledore smiled at seeing the look of disgust on her face. 'No, it is not cursed. Though, some might claim otherwise, since history has shown that many owners died prematurely while trying to obtain the knowledge hidden inside. However, their deaths have always been explainable by normal accounts of getting killed out of greed. It is not necessary to curse an object if there are always others lying in wait to get their hands on it, as the letter warned you about.'

Hermione scoffed at the mere thought of Voldemort warning her about anything, but Dumbledore continued. 'The book is said to hold the knowledge to achieve eternity in time. Legend dictates that a worthy Slytherin will become the master of this.' And he tapped on the book. 'So, many have tried in the past and failed. Some say this myth was invented by Salazar Slytherin to boost his greatness and that all of it is utter nonsense. They say the book cannot be read, because it does not contain real knowledge, but … here you are, Miss Granger, here you are.' And on that note, he stood up and prepared to leave.

'Professor?' she asked and nodded her head towards the book.

'That is, I believe, your responsibility, Miss Granger. I have no doubt you need it to send you back to your own time, but make sure you remember this book is deemed illegal by today's standards and could get you sentenced to Azkaban in a heartbeat. So it's indeed best to keep it away from prying eyes. I will send someone over in the morning to show you around your new school. Shall we say at eight o'clock?' He winked at her, before he left.

Hermione could not help but wonder about yesterday's events as she was brushing her hair in front of a mirror that seemed to insist on making dry comments about the benefits of a haircut to her. She was almost ready when she heard the knock on the door. She checked the clock. It was ten minutes to eight. She made her way to the door with her hairbrush still in hand.

'I hope it's not Riddle,' she thought. 'Let's hope it's the Head Girl or some Prefect, anyone but him. I should have asked Professor Dumbledore to send someone else.'

And she opened the door. A slender girl with black hair in a ponytail was giving her a broad smile. 'Thank Godric, a Gryffindor,' Hermione thought relieved upon seeing the familiar House's colours.

'Hello, you must be Hermione Evans. Professor Dumbledore asked me to show you around and make you feel welcome.' The girl shook her hand and Hermione almost squeaked from the force of the handshake.

'Do you play Quidditch perhaps?' Hermione asked, while rubbing her now painful hand.

'Yes, I'm Captain of the Gryffindor team,' the girl said beaming. 'Do you play too? We could do with a better chaser. Augusta Longbottom is good, don't get me wrong, but she is no Potter.'

'No, sorry, I don't play. I'm afraid of heights.'

'Oh well, I guess it doesn't matter. You haven't been sorted, yet, anyway. I'm Minerva, by the way, Minerva McGonagall.'

After a while of complete silence, Minerva moved her hands across her face like she was trying to brush off some dirt. 'Do I have something on my face?' she finally asked at the staring and perplexed Hermione.

'No, no, you're fine,' Hermione muttered. 'I'll be right there. I… uh… I just have to comb my hair and grab my bag. Do come in.'

Quickly, Hermione disappeared back into the room and Minerva followed her in. Hermione was standing in front of the insulting mirror, combing her hair vigorously, while having a hard time keeping her face in check at seeing the teenage McGonagall, who was practically bouncing on her feet with excess energy. 'If only Ron was here to see this,' Hermione thought, amused.

They, first, went to The Great Hall to have breakfast, because Minerva was starving. And she was sure Hermione must be hungry too, which was a correct assumption. They sat down at the Gryffindor table, since it was Minerva's House and Hermione was having a great time. Minerva was a fast source of information concerning everything and everyone at Hogwarts. She was the Head Girl and therefore she had all kinds of juicy intell on the student body, which she shared with Hermione whenever someone passed by.

'That is Muriel Weasley. If you value peace and quietness avoid her, oh, and she loves to dig into people's secrets. So be warned,' Minerva said grinning. 'Ernest Lovegood, a bit of an odd one. Lucretia Black, she is alright for a Slytherin. The one with the sour face next to her is Walburga Black. You have my personal permission to hex her whenever you can, just make sure you don't get caught. Augusta! Over here!'

Minerva waved at what must be Neville's grandmother. Hermione felt it was a bit strange to see all these people in the prime of their life. And Minerva was sounding an awful lot like a female version of the Weasley twin. Something she had not been expecting at all from watching the stern professor in her days. Hermione stood up to shake Augusta's hand upon Minerva's introduction.

'Oh,' Minerva said with a slight tone of disgust. 'I believe you already met _him_.'

Hermione turned her head to see him was indeed Tom Riddle and she looked back at Minerva with equal disgust in her face. Minerva gave her a proud look. 'Ah, I think we're going to get along just nicely. At least you have better taste than Augusta over here. She thinks he is hot.'

Hermione looked in shock at Augusta, who turned red at Minerva's remark and mumbled something underneath her breath. Minerva laughed out loud at Hermione's appalled face and Augusta's embarrassment, but she stopped laughing after Augusta gave her an angry glare.

'Do you have to keep bringing that up, Minerva? It's not funny anymore.' Augusta stood up. 'It was nice to meet _you_ , Hermione.' And she left.

'Ouch … I think I pissed her off. But I mean, really, it was funny, in a totally embarrassing kind of way, but still funny. And it is not like Augusta is the only one who made a fool of herself in front of Riddle. Lots of girls like him. I guess there is no account for taste. I would rather hop the Giant Squid than date _that_ over there,' Minerva added cheerfully.

Hermione nearly choked on her pumpkin juice at the casual, happy way in which her stern professor made that remark, and for a second He-Who-Lost-Out-To-The-Creature-In-The-Lake was looking straight at her. Minerva tapped her on the back, all the while continuing the information stream, which did not improve Hermione's condition.

'Oh, look, brainless puppet alert,' Minerva said happily and she waved dismissively towards a group of Slytherin boys that entered the Hall.

Hermione let out a snort, suppressed her laughter in a napkin, mumbled something about needing a lavatory and ran for safety. Upon hearing the door of the booth fall close behind her, she roared with laughter.

'This is just too much information,' she thought, clutching onto her belly.

Hermione had heard stories about Tom Riddle's schooldays from Harry and what he had seen in the Pensieve. But those accounts were always laced with seriousness and determination to understand Lord Voldemort's past. They had to learn about the Horcruxes and other important stuff that happened, and it was never anything to be amused about.

'Harry should have talked to Professor McGonagall,' Hermione thought, while tears were running down her cheeks from laughter. 'He would have had a much better time that way.'

After she calmed down, she looked in the mirror and threw some water in her face to clear it up. She left the lavatory and was about to go back to the Great Hall when she heard a scared voice coming from around the corner.

'Please, I haven't had time yet. You'll have it tomorrow.'

'Really, Smith, I told you I need it tonight. I have to make sure it looks like my handwriting, don't I? You stupid, good for nothing, Hufflepuff.'

Hermione pulled out her wand and walked around the corner. She saw three individuals with the posture of Crabbe and Goyle surrounding what must be the Smith boy, because he was lying on the floor. One of them had his foot resting at the boy's neck, and all three of them had their wands ready. The one, who stood on top of Smith, raised his wand at him and shouted: 'Conjucta Inflaree!'

'Protego!' Hermione cast in reflex.

Hermione's Shield Charm flew across the corridor and engulfed the Hufflepuff just in a nick of time. The silvery shield blasted the Slytherin away from the Hufflepuff and said Slytherin crashed with a loud bang against the armoured knight, whose headpiece fell off and landed on the Slytherin's head. The curse, he cast, rebounded and hit the Crabbe look-a-like on the right. He began screaming for his mother upon feeling the pain the fire in his eyes was causing him. All this made the third Slytherin take one look at the situation, before he decided to make a run for it. He disappeared out of sight in what must have been a record time for someone his size.

'Coward,' Hermione thought.

She looked at the dishevelled Hufflepuff. 'Are you all right?' she asked him and held out her arm.

'Yes, I think so,' he replied timidly, standing up, while watching the pantomime in front of him.

The knight's headpiece appeared to be stuck at the Slytherin's head and he was now, unsuccessfully, trying to free himself from it. The only result was that his head got stuck even further into the thing and if the increased amount of groaning was any indication, it was a painful experience. Phoney Crabbe, on the other hand, was still dancing around, shouting and covering his eyes.

'Thanks for your help, but you really shouldn't have,' the Smith boy said weakly.

Hermione noticed Smith's eyes began to dart the corridor left and right. She raised her eyebrows at him when he began to back away from her. 'You really shouldn't have. He went to get help.' And the boy started to run.

'You're welcome!' Hermione shouted at his retreating back.

She shook her head. 'You're never going to be rid of bullies if you act like that,' she thought slightly irritated, before she turned her attention back to the two remaining Slytherins.

She raised her wand at the one she baptised as Crabbe, but Crabbe kept on moving. 'Stand still, you fool, I can't undo the curse and heal your eyes, if you keep jumping around,' Hermione said, annoyed.

However, she might have just as well talked to the wall for all the good it did her, because he kept on jumping and screaming. Hermione growled and flashed her wand. 'Stupefy.'

He landed on the floor face down. She cast the Healing Charm to lift the effects of the curse and continued with the Reviving Charm. After that she removed the knight's headpiece with a simple flick of her wand, and she was now eyeing the two idiots on the floor in righteous condemnation.

'Three against one, how very courageous of you all,' she lectured them firmly. 'And to think you might have been able to prevent all this nastiness from happening to you, if you actually would have done your own homework. Maybe then you would have realised it is not a good idea to stand on top of the one you're about to curse. Or maybe you would have used that one brain cell your father left you to duck the rebounding curse. But I probably shouldn't be surprised…'

From the corner of her eye she saw movement and she conjured her shield up just before the Severing Charm impacted on it. The blast cost her to lose her footing and she flew across the corridor, where she landed not so graciously on her behind.

'Shit,' Hermione thought when she recognised the person standing there.

Rodolphus Lestrange had his wand raised and was eyeing her with disgust. 'Who in Salazar's name do you think you are, attacking my fellow House mates?' he said menacingly.

She stumbled back onto her feet. 'At least he didn't bring Riddle along,' Hermione thought, relieved, when she noticed the Slytherin who previously vacated the scene standing beside Lestrange.

'Hermione Evans,' she answered with a small, mocking incline of her head.

She had no intention to back away from the likes of Lestrange, but a little voice inside her head said it might be wise to leave while one was still standing upright. A second hex flew in her direction, but she saw that one coming a mile away. She ducked, and with a flick of her wand, she hurtled Ginny's speciality back at him. The two to her right were suddenly moving.

'Protego!' Hermione thought.

Two curses rebounded of her shield and returned right back at their casters, who were, yet again, in severe agony from their own spell-casting. Noticing Lestrange was having severe problems with her Bat-Bogey Hex, she turned her attention to the two on the floor. 'And I just informed you both not to curse someone a mere inch away. Only those of us with actual magical reflexes can do that. I'd recommend rereading Goshawk's Standard Book of Spells grade 1, although I sincerely doubt it will do you any good,' she snapped at them.

Hermione looked at Lestrange, who was still battling his bogeys. It surprised her, but she wasn't going to complain about that. The other Slytherin had taken a run for it again, but this time Hermione wasn't going to linger. She felt it would be best to be elsewhere, preferably back in 1997, when Tom Riddle would arrive at the scene. No doubt the cowardly runaway Slytherin would tell the Head Boy his 'friend' Rodolphus was in trouble.

She quickly made her way back to the Great Hall when she ran into Minerva. 'What took you so long? I was afraid you drowned yourself in there like Myrtle used to do.'

'I ran into some lost puppets,' Hermione answered, shrugging.

Minerva frowned, but she laughed when Hermione grabbed her arm and said with a very devious look on her face: 'Any more attractions you've got here?'

'You wouldn't believe me.'

'Try me.'

'On your head it is.'

As the two Gryffindors walked past the doorway to the Great Hall and made their way to the staircase, Hermione saw Riddle exciting with Mister Runaway, as she named the coward who had left the scene twice. 'Puppeteer to the rescue,' Hermione whispered in Minerva's ear.

For a moment the Head Girl looked puzzled, but upon seeing Riddle she snorted. 'What did you do?' she asked Hermione excitedly.

'Nothing much, actually. They were very good in hurting themselves.'

Minerva laughed out loud. 'You're my new hero, woman.'

Hermione had a wonderful time with her old or rather younger Transfiguration Professor. They had wandered the corridors of Hogwarts without any sign of Tom Riddle to Hermione's relief, and after lunch they went outside to sit on the lawn nearby the lake, talking about all kinds of things: classes, career choices, family, and so on.

Hermione knew she was totally ignoring the Third Act of The Magical Law, but somehow she didn't care. After all, she had already broken it yesterday by getting seen, and she would have to interact with the entire Hogwarts student body and its professors soon. So talking would not be something she could avoid. And she felt reckless ever since she realised the predicament she was in. It was like the enormity of her problem weighted so heavily on her shoulders that she had to find an outlet for her nerves. And since her normal sensible routine did nothing to relieve her anxiety, she went overboard in the other direction.

Halfway through the day Professor Dumbledore approached the two giggling girls with a smile on his face. 'I thought you two might hit it off,' he said.

Hermione and Minerva just looked at each other and started chuckling again. 'Sorry, Professor,' Minerva hiccoughed, but Dumbledore waved the apologies away.

'It's always nice to know I can still bring a smile on young people's faces.'

They started giggling again.

'Miss Evans, I should inform you that you are expected at the Headmaster's office tonight at eight o'clock, so you can be sorted into your House. I've already taken care of all the other items of concern. Miss McGonagall knows the password and is, I am certain, more than happy to accompany you. Isn't that right Minerva?'

'Ye..ee..esss, P..p..p.. professor,' Minerva was coughing the words out.

'Very well, I'm glad that is all arranged then. I'll see you both tonight at eight.' And he strolled away. 'Wonderful day, isn't it, Mister Riddle?'

'Yes, it's really nice, Professor.' The restraint in Tom's voice was obvious.

'Nice, warm and sunny,' Dumbledore added, while passing the evil menace.

Hermione saw Tom roll his eyes to the sky at Dumbledore's back. She also noticed the club of Slytherins huddled around Tom, who was leaning against a tree reading a book. With a shock, she recognised one of them, though she did not know his name. He was one of the Death Eaters that had Apparated at Fleur and Bill's wedding and she had seen him cast a rather vicious Slicing Hex at the already injured George Weasley just before she had Apparated Harry, Ron and herself out of there. She felt an uncontrollable anger boil up inside of her. They were sitting right there, right within her grasp, and she could do nothing. It was frustrating her severely. She remembered the disgusting statue in the ministry; the persecution of the Muggle-borns, and everything else that group over there was responsible for.

'Do not disturb the time-line, Miss Granger. Terrible things happened to wizards who do.' The memory of the words vibrated in her ears, but she felt reckless all day after that encounter with Lestrange and, apparently, a bit of George's spirit did rub off on her after all those years of close contact with the twins.

'Where did I put it?' she mumbled tight-lipped and searched frantically through her bag.

'Is something wrong?' Minerva asked, concerned.

'AH! There you have it,' Hermione spoke triumphantly.

She pulled out a small box. It had an off-white colour with the exception of the three large, red W's that were visible on the top. Hermione opened it and pulled out a red ball that had the size of a snitch.

'Hermione?'

'No, nothing is wrong, not for us anyway. Vengeance is mine,' she hissed.

Minerva gave her a puzzled look. 'What are you planning?'

'Whatever happens, don't go near that group over there and don't make any attempts to help them. It will only make things worse.'

'Hermione?'

But Hermione had got on her feet already and strode back to the castle. Minerva watched her closely as she went, but she never saw what Hermione did and neither did the Slytherins, or at least, that's what Hermione assumed and hoped. Hermione grabbed the arm of a little boy that wanted to walk past her, and she practically forced him to move with her.

'Miss?' asked the boy, who was far too small to be a first year, and he gave her a rather scared look.

'Trust me,' Hermione whispered, 'you'll understand in five… four… three… two… one…'

And on Hermione's last count the ball from Fred and George exploded with a force that made the first year jump so high he reached eye-level with Hermione. She merely glanced over her shoulder to watch the Weasley Fireworks for a moment. Amused, she saw Riddle try an Extinguishing Charm, which resulted in the multiplication of everything in the air and she noticed the Death Eater, who she had aimed at, was lying flat on his back, totally covered with Fred's best sticky substance. Without the Weasley Removal Kit, which she wasn't planning on sharing, she doubted it would come off any time soon.

'They better build a tent around you. I've heard it's expected to rain this evening,' she thought, satisfied, before she went inside the castle.

But Hermione had a lot more up her sleeve than a bit of exploding fireworks. So with everybody paying attention to the show outside, it was the perfect time to accomplish the rest of her mischief. She, quickly, ran downstairs towards the dungeon's corridor where she knew the hidden door to the Slytherin Common Room was located. It was perfectly quiet. Nobody was around to witness the next homage to Fred and George. She picked a flask of strange looking grayish powder out of the WWW-box, opened the flask and threw its contents at the door, while whispering: 'Colloportus Totallus'.

She was curious whether it would work, since this was an enchanted doorway. Only she did not know the password, so there was no way to try and check. However, if it worked, she would find out soon enough. According to George, the shortest period he and Fred had timed the doors to remain closed was a week. The thought of the Slytherin Common Room being unavailable to anyone for a week brought a broad, content looking smile on Hermione's face. Figuring she had her Twin-Time well spent, she went to the library. She had to find some books on time travel after all.

An hour later she closed the last library book on the subject. It was totally useless. The only volume that might have been helpful wasn't written yet. And she did not feel like waiting twenty years before being able to return home. The library was deserted. She had heard screams coming from somewhere downstairs and she had a bit of an inkling as to why and where, so she was pretty sure people would be too busy to come to the library. Besides, she was sitting in an abandoned corridor anyway. Figuring it wasn't much of a risk she pulled out Eternity in Time and opened it again. Upon seeing the pages were no longer blank she got really excited. The answer to her problem would be in here. She just knew it, but after trying to read a couple of pages she slammed the book shut.

'Great, just great,' she mumbled and she silently cursed Salazar Slytherin from here to the moon and back again. 'Paranoid, prejudiced, overgrown, arrogant, delusional…'

She watched the cover in fury and dumped the book back in her bag. She was going to need a Parselmouth to read it, and whoever it was had to be fluent in Runes and English as well, because for some, no doubt, delightful reason, Salazar had made sure whoever read the text had to be able to understand all three languages bound together, otherwise none of it would make sense.

'Wonderful, just wonderful,' she muttered. 'Well, I could always try Apparating again. Who knows maybe I can meet some dinosaurs.'

The rest of the day she heard everyone chatter about the sealed door to the Slytherin Common Room. Minerva eyed her suspiciously when Hermione questioned her about what was going on, but the Head Girl was amused enough at the stunt to inform her that various things were being tried to unlock the door, but so far the professors had come up empty handed. Apparently, there were a couple of students in the Common Room when the door went shut, and Slughorn was making a big scene on how his students were locked inside. Hermione raised her shoulders at Minerva's last revelation.

'It's not like they're going to starve to death. The house-elves can get in and bring them food. They have beds to sleep on, couches to sit on, and toilets and bathrooms at their disposal. All they are going to miss might be a couple of lessons and from what I've seen so far teaching them is pointless anyway,' Hermione stated matter-of-factly.

'Miss lessons?' Minerva said, stunned. 'How long is that door going to remain locked?' she added, while they were on their way to the Headmaster's office for Hermione's sorting.

Hermione raised her shoulders again. 'We shall see,' she said uncaring and gave Minerva a wink.

'Head's Office,' Minerva told the gargoyle.

Hermione made a face at the unimaginative password as the gargoyle leaped aside to let them pass. She was going to meet the Headmaster and get sorted again. She felt it was an utter waste of her time. Dumbledore should have just made up some excuse and let her go to Gryffindor without going through all this nonsense. Upon knocking at the door, they heard voices coming from inside. Armando Dippet, apparently, wasn't alone in his office.

'Come in, come in…' a feeble voice spoke, and the door opened.

Hermione recognised the balding Dippet from the portrait that hang in the office during Dumbledore's days there.

'Ah, our new arrival. Settling in alright?' Dippet asked Hermione politely.

She merely nodded in response. She wasn't happy at the sight of Tom Riddle standing beside Dippet's desk. And Tom obviously wasn't too thrilled about something either, most likely something concerning fireworks and a door that would not open. He was tapping impatiently on the desk with his right hand, but Dippet appeared unwitting of that.

'Professor, it had to be done on purpose. First, there was this fireworks incident and now this.'

He was not looking at the Headmaster when he made his statement; instead he stared straight at Hermione. It made her rather uncomfortable and she was beginning to question her own sanity in her judgements earlier in the day. But it quickly became clear to Hermione Headmaster Dippet was very much unwilling to accept that it all had been foul play.

'Now, now, Tom,' Dippet said in a tone that came across somewhat patronising. 'It was just an unfortunate incident that coincided with an accident to the doorway at the same time. I'm sure someone just made a mistake with the password and the door's safety precautions must have overreacted. I have every confidence in the abilities of our teachers to fix the door and it will be ready again to let students pass in no time.'

Hermione did not believe her ears. How gullible was this man? Her startling expression at Dippet's stupidity got rewarded by a look of affirmation from Riddle, which confused her even more. 'Did he or did he not suspect her?' Hermione thought, quickly redirecting her attention towards Dippet, when she noticed Riddle was staring at her again.

The Headmaster beckoned them all to sit down, and Hermione noticed Tom was not moving at all. He remained standing where he was with a determined look on his face. Hermione was sure Dippet had not heard the last on the pranks she pulled from Tom.

Dippet, however, started to speak to Hermione and Minerva, while pretending Tom wasn't there at all. It did not take her long to realise this man wasn't simply dull, he was absolutely and utterly boring to the extreme. She noticed Minerva was slouching in her chair, and after a while, she could not suppress a yawn herself.

'Sorry, professor,' she said. 'It has been a long day.'

She saw the smirk on Tom's face, but Dippet failed to pick up on that completely.

'Of course, of course, my mistake,' said Dippet. 'I should have thought about your physical condition. Dumbledore told me all about it. You're obviously still weak from the ordeal you went through.'

Hermione barely restraint herself from rolling her eyes to the ceiling, but wondered if she had done it, whether the man would have noticed. He didn't seem to have a keen eye when it came down to observing and interpreting other people's behaviour.

'Well, I guess we should move on to get you sorted, so you can go up to your House's dormitories and get some rest. You can hear the other stuff some other time,' Dippet said, looking quite disappointed at not being able to continue his usual everlasting speech.

He explained the Sorting Hat procedure to Hermione and, eventually, Hermione sat on her chair with the Hat covered over her head.

The Hat spoke first. 'Hello again, Hermione Jean Granger,' it said. 'I see its Evans for now. So the former Gryffindor girl is back here. Need another sorting?'

'How can you know that?' Hermione asked, surprised. 'It has not happened yet.'

'I'm this school's Sorting Hat. I know all there is, all that was and all that will be. So where shall I put you?'

'Gryffindor, of course,' she answered immediately.

'Really? Are you sure? You're brave, no doubt about that, but you've got so much potential for another House and you have the unique opportunity to see what it's like to live there. No one else has ever been able to experience life at Hogwarts in two Houses, you know.'

The Sorting Hat's statement made Hermione think. It had made a valid and interesting point. Everybody saw Hogwarts only from their own House's perspective. She remembered the song the Hat had sung in her fifth year, giving people the warning not to divide the school. She had agreed with it, even though Harry and Ron were reluctant to inter-house's relationships. She also had been the one to push the idea of having Dumbledore's Army open to everybody, although in the end no Slytherin had joined them, but that was not from lack of trying on her part.

'See,' the Hat said, 'you're open-minded and smart enough to try something different. You have all the qualities of a loyal friend and you're definitely one of the smartest witches I've ever sorted. Both Helga and Rowena would be proud to welcome you in their respective Houses. However, I personally feel that you would be much better suited in Slytherin.'

'No way, out of the question,' Hermione told the Hat immediately. She felt being sorted into Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff was one thing, but she was not getting anywhere near Him.

'Ah yes, Tom Marvolo Riddle. He has a strong influence on the other inhabitants of Slytherin. He could do with someone who would, shall we say, balance his kind of thinking.'

'I don't belong in Slytherin,' Hermione stated firmly. 'I'm Muggle-born. Salazar Slytherin certainly would not be proud to welcome me in his House.'

The Sorting Hat fell silent for a second at her assumption. 'Yet, that same Salazar Slytherin has deemed you fit enough to handle his precious book of eternity and time,' the Hat said mildly. 'So I'm sorry, but I think he wouldn't mind. Shall we make it Slytherin then?'

'No!' Hermione said, panicking at the thought. 'And what do you mean Salazar Slytherin found me fit enough? It's not like he personally handed me the book, is it?'

'Well, it was your Muggle-born blood, that made the text appear, and your blood triggered the transport to this time-frame. And Salazar placed a lot of protections on that book, so not everyone would have got the result you had with it,' the Hat explained.

'My blood?' Hermione asked, stunned at the notion. 'Are you saying that if I used Harry's, I would not have been here?' She was rather shocked at hearing this news.

'Probably not,' the Hat replied.

'But how can that be? I thought Salazar was all about not excepting anyone who wasn't born into a wizarding family line.'

'He was, but I guess his own words are finally gaining up on him. Don't forget it has been an eternity since Salazar roamed this planet. It seems that the cruel irony of time has decided to catch up with Salazar as well. So Slytherin then?' the Hat asked persistently.

'But, but, but… I…' Hermione fell silent, because the Sorting Hat spoke up again.

'You have a lot of qualities Salazar liked to see in his handpicked students. You're ambitious, cunning, not to keen on keeping to the rules and you have some vicious tendencies as well.'

Hermione wanted to object to that statement, but the Hat interrupted her. 'Yes, you do, Miss Granger. That hex you put on Marrietta Edgecombe wasn't particularly nice. Especially since it was sort of a … permanent stain, wasn't it?' it said, amused.

'She had it coming. She betrayed professor Dumbledore and all of us to Umbridge,' Hermione said angrily.

'Yes, but having the word sneak plastered all over your face for the rest of your life is a rather extensive punishment, very Slytheresk I would say. And let's not forget your ability to…'

Hermione interrupted the Hat, before it could continue naming all of Hermione's other Slytherin capabilities. She felt she heard more than enough from that annoying Hat. 'I didn't just think that.' Hermione was shocked at her own thought. 'I didn't just refer to something that belonged to Godric Gryffindor as annoying.'

'Yes, you did,' said the Sorting Hat tauntingly.

It was that exact response that made her suspicious. 'Who is this?' she asked cautiously, after a short silence.

'Sorry?' The Hat said quietly, faking ignorance.

'You, who are you? You're not the Sorting Hat,' Hermione said certain.

'Bugger,' the voice replied. 'I hoped you wouldn't notice. I knew you were smart, I send you that letter after all, but it seems I still underestimate you, Miss Granger.'

'You!' Hermione growled. 'You send me that blasted book, you're the reason I'm stuck here. Damn you, Riddle, I hope that door never reopens.'

And she raised her hand to pull the Sorting Hat of her head, but it yelled at her. 'Wait! You've got it wrong! I'm not him! Wait! I'm Slytherin, Salazar Slytherin, and I need your help. Please, hear me out, Miss Granger, if you want to go to Gryffindor after we have spoken, then so be it, but please, hear what I have to say.'

Flabbergasted, Hermione remained underneath the Hat. 'Salazar Slytherin? But that's impossible.'

'Not when you have all eternity to spend your time in, Miss Granger. I daresay death makes one rather inventive to find other means to achieve one's goals.'

'How nice,' she said weakly. 'Glad that my time spend here, is helpful in some way. So why do you want a Mudblood to befoul the soils of your House?' Hermione remembered very clearly that it was him who stood at the origin of all the bigotry in the Wizarding World.

'I'm sorry that my beliefs got thrown out of context and proportion by some of today's fools, but you must understand back in my days we were severely persecuted by Muggles. Many of our kind got killed, before they could develop their abilities. And we were especially in danger from those people, whose families were not like us.'

'Nonsense,' Hermione stated. 'Are you trying to tell me you could not defend yourself against Muggles?'

'I could, but many were unable to do so. Come on, Miss Granger, surely you noticed not everybody is as skilled in magic as you are. And even some who were proficient enough still died if they got caught without their wand. Don't tell me you of all people underestimate a Muggle's ingenuity when they want to destroy what they fear or simply don't understand? I don't disapprove of a wizard merely based on their birth. I know a Muggle-born wizard can be as powerful or more than a pure-blood one. I was friends with Godric Gryffindor, after all. The living proof Muggle-borns were a force to recon. But I wanted safety for those wizards and witches we were responsible for. Many wizards and witches died, because Godric was too trusting, telling every Muggle parent their kid was magical. Believing all parents loved their own offspring enough not to harm them.' Salazar snorted. 'He really was an utter fool at times.'

Hermione heard the sadness in his voice and realised Salazar was actually being honest with her. She had never before heard Slytherin's reasons for wanting to keep magical teachings within all magical families. She had always assumed it was out of hatred towards Muggles, similar to Grindelwald's and Voldemort's reasoning. But this was not what she expected at all, not that she agreed with him, but she could understand it, and from the hurt in his voice she suspected a personal tragedy had taken place.

Salazar continued, noticing Hermione was not dismissing his story. 'I rather not discuss the past, if you don't mind, but I do need you to help me save Slytherin's House from annihilation. Riddle has way too much influence on everyone in my House and someone has to make the others see the light, so to speak.'

Hermione bit her lip. Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts for six years now, firmly establishing his presence and authority. Surely, it would be impossible for her to undo all that in less than a year's time?

'Difficult yes, but not impossible. Time is relative and history has been changed by the mere presence of one before,' Salazar spoke, hearing her thoughts. 'I picked you for this task, Miss Granger. I know you can do this. You're the only one in all eternity who can, actually.'

Hermione did not hear the compliment, because she, suddenly, remembered. 'I'm not allowed!' she said frantically. 'I was told time is not to be tampered with. Bad things happen to people who do. And this most definitely would count as major tampering.'

'Pffftt… rules and regulations…,' Salazar said dismissively. 'Those restrictions were laid down by fools who do not understand what they are talking about. Trust me, Hermione, manipulating time is somewhat of my area of expertise. Feel free to read all about it. You do have my book after all.'

'Already tried that,' Hermione grumbled cross. 'But you had to be a freaking paranoia and make it impossible for me to read.'

'Well, there were some problems in the past with the knowledge falling into the hands of people who lacked the intelligence to use the book properly. It was quite a mess, actually, took me ages to clean up after them. And since we made the book indestructible, burning it was not an option.'

Hermione gasped at the unholy thought of burning a book, but she tuned back into Salazar's explanation quickly.

'So we decided to decode and hide it instead. I encrypted it and asked Godric to hide it, so I would not be tempted to use it myself again. However, Godric did not do a good enough job of hiding it. I have to say I was somewhat disappointed in him after Eternity in Time resurfaced two decades after our deaths. Fortunately, no one has been able to use the book up until today. Not even that fool of an heir of mine had the time to activate its powers, too busy killing people, becoming immortal and getting beaten by babies. Tsk… tsk… tsk.'

'Voldemort had the book? But I thought you said you send it to me?' Hermione asked, frowning.

'Well, I'm sort of dead, Miss Granger. So technically I can't send anything, but I can be very persuasive if I need to be,' Salazar stated, chuckling.

Hermione got a bit worried about this turn of events.

'Oh, don't worry, dear, he doesn't remember. You should have seen the look on his face when he noticed the book was gone; priceless. Besides, I had to intervene, he was planning on using the book to control Time itself. I could not let that happen. The results would have been disastrous.'

Hermione could imagine, but still, she was not happy of having to hold onto something Voldemort would undoubtedly consider his rightful possession. Especially now she knew he was tricked in sending it to her. He was clever. He would find out.

'Never worry about the future, but live in the present,' Salazar stated cheerful upon hearing her thoughts.

'I was living in the present, until you sent me here. How am I going to get home?'

'Use the book.'

The statement was rewarded with a growl from Hermione.

'You're a resourceful witch. I'm sure you'll find a way to obtain the knowledge within. Now, will you help me save my House from falling, and with it, countless lives in the process?'

Hermione wasn't sure. Not sure she would be able to achieve the wanted outcome, not sure she would not make things worse, not sure it was a bad thing for Slytherin House to vanish, and not sure her tampering would even be for the greater good. She felt a slight discomfort at remembering that was Grindelwald's slogan. Everything was done 'For the greater good'. If she did this, wouldn't she be like them? Shaping the world as she saw fit, deciding for others their current reality wasn't good enough. And this meant entirely that she had to live next-door to Lord Voldemort, while she would be undermining his endeavours. It was a crazy idea. It was suicide by proxy.

'Come on, Miss Granger, only a true Gryffindor would be brave enough to undertake this assignment and roam the House of a real rival,' Salazar cunningly said.

'And only a true Slytherin would be slippery enough to try to manipulate me in such a manner.'

'Glad I could live up to standards,' Salazar said smugly. 'So I guess it will be Gryffindor after all?' Hermione heard the utter disappointment in his assumption.

It was too difficult to choose. She needed Harry and Ron to talk to, to pick their brain. She just wasn't sure what the right thing to do was anymore. Whatever decision she made, she could still screw up everything. Both choices beheld dangers and chances. She felt like flipping a coin, that way, if things turned out disastrous, she could blame fate.

Hermione sighed. She made her decision. 'Very well, you win. I pick Slytherin. Let's see how long it takes me to end up dead in one of the castle's corridors.'

'I'm sure you're cunning enough to make it through alive, dear,' Salazar said, before he shouted 'Slytherin' through the Headmaster's office.

'Though, you will have to bunk out in the Great Hall for now, since you sealed up my Common Room,' he added and she heard him chuckle out of irony.

She removed the Sorting Hat from her head and saw two completely astonished faces staring back at her. Both McGonagall and Riddle seemed like they could not believe their ears at the fact that she was sorted into Slytherin. Hermione noticed Albus Dumbledore had somehow also made his way into the room. She wondered exactly how long it had taken her to get sorted, since she hadn't seen him arrive at all and he had taken a seat in the far-end-corner of the office. Dumbledore, unlike her future classmates, did not look surprised or upset over her sorting. He gave her a big smile, which she repaid.

'Well,' said Dippet, and he scratched his throat, while looking nervously at Dumbledore to see how the Transfiguration Professor took the news of this new girl being sorted into his rival House. Headmaster Dippet had read the Durmstrang Record of the girl supplied to him by Dumbledore yesterday evening and it was clear she was exceptionally bright. Her grades were high and he could easily see her graduating second of her class this year, even if the Durmstrang curriculum was slightly less advanced than Hogwarts. And with her also in Slytherin, the race for the House Cup was done, over, ran, and finished.

'Horace will be pleased, even if Albus isn't,' Dippet thought, reassuring himself that the world did not fall apart merely because things did not go Albus's way.

He mistook Dumbledore's silence for disapproval. Dippet thought Dumbledore was biased towards the Slytherins, since he always tried to stop him from giving more tasks and responsibilities to Tom Riddle. He remembered how Dumbledore even opposed the decision to make him Head Boy. Really, like he could get away with overlooking the smartest student that ever walked this school. It would probably be a good thing for Albus to see another talented student in Slytherin, maybe that would warm him up towards them a bit. Yes, maybe it's for the best she's in Slytherin. This was the final thought that ran through Dippet's mind on this issue and he was rather pleased with himself at his own brilliant conclusion. Nevertheless, he suddenly felt the urge to make Miss Evans leave his office quickly, before Dumbledore would speak and ruin everything.

'Well, I guess you can take her down to the Slytherin dormitories, Tom, and fill her in on House rules and regulations.'

Riddle looked like he desperately had to count to ten at Dippet's dumbfounded remark. A flash of irritation ran visibly over his face, before it returned to his calm, blank expression.

'Have the Professors already been able to open the door, Sir?' Tom asked, a slight hint of sarcasm creeping through the otherwise polite tone.

The sarcasm was directed at Dippet, but he expected Dumbledore to respond to the question, because he looked in his direction awaiting the answer, and his assumption was proven right.

'No, I am afraid not, Tom,' Dumbledore responded. 'We're not quite certain what caused the problem, but it seems it is going to take a while longer to fix the issue at hand.'

'Shall I escort Miss Evans back to the guest chambers then?' Tom asked. 'I'm sure she would be more comfortable there, instead of sleeping in the Great Hall with a bunch of strangers.'

'Splendid idea and very considerate of you, Mister Riddle,' Dippet said, positively beaming at Tom.

Hermione was not so good at restraining her emotions as Riddle and she rolled her eyes at the thought of Lord Voldemort being deemed considerate. Minerva snorted and Dippet looked confused in their direction for a moment.

'Unless Miss Evans does not want to take advantage of the offer?' Dippet asked, confused.

Hermione thought quickly. It was tempting to accept, but on the other hand, she had a task to perform and isolating oneself was not the best way to achieve her goals.

'What is good enough for everybody else is good enough for me. The Great Hall will be fine, Sir,' Hermione answered diplomatically, because she did not want to upset the Headmaster on her first encounter with him.

From the corner of her eyes she saw Riddle stare at her again, an unreadable expression on his face. 'Perhaps it also was not such a good idea to upset him either,' she thought, but somehow it seemed that every time they met Hermione had this innate reflex to oppose and irritate him. 'This reaction is so going to blow up in my face some day,' she noted.

'Okay, if you don't mind sleeping there, I guess Tom can introduce you to your fellow Housemates in the Great Hall straight away. And maybe you can make the young lady somewhat familiar with the great traditions of Slytherin,' said Dippet, nodding approvingly to Tom.

Slytherin House-traditions, Hermione did not feel the need at all to get acquainted with Lord Voldemort's ideas on what those were supposed to be.

'Certainly Sir,' Tom said politely.

'Good, then it is goodbye for now.'

Dippet gave them a small, dismissive wave and started a conversation with Dumbledore. Tom moved to the door and held it open, so Minerva and Hermione could pass.

'Ladies first,' he said, acting like the ever so polite and humble one. He looked back at Dippet questionably for a second, but followed the girls down the revolving staircase.

Hermione was planning to ditch Tom Riddle upon vacating the Headmaster's Office. But her idea immediately got spoilt when Slytherin's heir neatly manoeuvred Minerva into leaving them alone. And Hermione realised she might as well get this over and done with. She was beginning to regret listening to Salazar Slytherin more and more with the passage of time. At first, their walk down was quiet. Hermione did not feel the need to start a conversation to entertain Riddle and he, apparently, was also not in a talkative mood. However, she was quite pleased upon remembering the shocked look on his face when he realised she would be in his House. She had not thought something would rattle him that easily and found it quite funny. She wondered how long the fun would last though.

'That was,' Riddle started to say, 'rather...'

'Unexpected,' Hermione finished, while giving him an amused look.

He frowned at her finishing his sentence.

'Yeah,' she continued, because she mistook his silence for being on the right track. 'It's not like I could misjudge that appalled look on your face after you heard I was to be in Slytherin. I'm sorry I disgust you that much,' she sneered at him and quickened her pace to pass him, but he grabbed her by the arm and stopped her from walking by.

'What!' Hermione snapped, and she yanked her arm back.

Their bags smashed to the floor at the sudden, violent movement, but they were eyeing each other angrily, so neither of them was looking at the bags or noticed the contents that got spilt from them. Two volumes had left their confined security and were now lying side by side as if, somehow, a mysterious force had drawn them towards each other.

'Look here, Evans,' Riddle threatened, emphasising on her last name in a scornful tone that reflected his disbelief of its legitimacy. 'Do not presume to know what I'm thinking. I was merely … surprised at the Sorting Hat's decision. And I think considering the busy day you've been having, it is not an outcome you were expecting in advance either.'

Her face flushed red and she shifted uncomfortably, redirecting her weight to her right leg.

'Surely, he was only referring to her encounter this morning with Lestrange and company. He couldn't know she sealed the door, could he?' Hermione thought anxiously, and her eyes began to dart the corridor.

It appeared unhealthily empty. Riddle also came to that conclusion, and with a smirk on his face, he leaned in towards her and said softly: 'the duelling, the fireworks, the door … anything else you like to add, Miss Evans?'

Hermione's reddened face underwent an immediate transformation. She felt the blood rush from her brain after his statement and her face turned utterly pale. Subconsciously, she bit her lip.

Riddle started laughing. 'Pathetic Evans, Salazar better help those whose secrets you're trying to keep. I must say I find this Sorting's outcome incredibly convenient. I think…'

But he stopped talking mid-sentence and there was a sudden, distinctive change in his mood. It went from amusement to surprise to curiosity and he was staring at the floor when it happened. Hermione followed his stare, only to experience a set of mood changes of her own at seeing the two books on the floor, a green-silver and a red-golden volume. The book Hermione had not seen before was written by Godric Gryffindor and was titled Infinity in Space.


	3. Chapter 3

**Masters of manipulation**

**Chapter three**

Their previous argument forgotten, Tom Riddle and Hermione Granger were standing in the corridor staring at the books on the floor, like it was an alien concept to the both of them. Like neither of them had ever seen or heard of the concept of a book before. Hermione's mind was racing, and she was certain Riddle was thinking the same thing she was. Her hand went to her pocket to retrieve her wand. She turned to face him to see Riddle was way ahead of her and had already drawn and raised his wand. Not having her wand ready, Hermione waited for the inevitable impact of the curse that never came. Riddle's face had, suddenly, got an alarmed expression and his wand was gone again, disappeared.

'Ah, Tom! There you are!'

The jubilant voice of Horace Slughorn made its way to the corridor. The sudden appearance of the professor behind her had undoubtedly saved Hermione from a rather nasty curse. However, her problems weren't even close to being over. She remembered the warning Dumbledore had given her in regards to the illegality of Salazar's work, and she had no desire to go to Azkaban. Riddle seemed to realise the predicament they were in also, because his eyes were darting from the professor to the books on the floor. Neither of them dared to move, afraid to draw attention to the jail-sending-volumes on the ground.

A large shadow fell through the corridor and she turned slightly to see the professor approaching them. He was walking behind a hovering tower of cauldrons, books, candy bags, mortars, bottles and various indefinable objects, waving his wand to keep the tower moving. His prominent eyes were beaming towards them and she noticed his moustache was still a gingery-blond colour. Suddenly, a brush of air flew past her. Slughorn shrieked when his wand began slipping out of his hand… From the corner of her eye Hermione saw Riddle begin to move, but he froze up when Slughorn managed to keep a hold of his wand with the tip of his fingers.

Unfortunately, without the distinctive wand-movements, the tower stopped hovering and started to come down. Slughorn swung his arms around it, resembling a hug, to prevent the tower from collapsing on the floor. His fingers were barely holding on to his wand. It was a strange sight, two little arms trying hard to keep an enormous tower of stuff upright. A tower that was, at least, twice the size of the short stature professor carrying it. Hermione heard Slughorn huff and puff under its weight. He was wobbling on his feet, following the movements of the tower. It started to move forward and Slughorn moved his tiny feet after it. When he reached Hermione, he pressed his big belly forward, stopping the gigantic mass from its pursuit of the corridor. Thinking he gained control of the tower, he eyed Tom and Hermione with a look of triumph upon his reddened face. His feet were right beside the two forbidden novels. Another step was taken … right on top of Infinity in Space … And Slughorn shrieked as he slipped and lost his footing. His wand clattered onto the floor. The tower broke apart…

Hermione flung out of the stupor she was in and pulled out her wand. 'Wingardium Leviosa!' she shouted.

And all the things Slughorn had been carrying remained motionless, scattered throughout the air, filling up the pathway. Anxiously, Hermione stepped out from underneath a very heavy, solid looking, floating cauldron and saw Slughorn lift up his head from the floor eyeing her thankfully, when, suddenly, everything crashed down on top of him and he let out a scream in pain. Confused, Hermione looked at the rubble before her. She had not lifted the Levitation Charm.

'Professor! Are you all right?!' Riddle shouted, while he fell down on his knees and began ruffling, with his hands, through the heap.

Hermione stared in surprise at the scene before her. Lord Voldemort was using a Muggle way to dig out the professor? She watched with wide eyes as he shifted through the contents vigorously, when she realised he wasn't helping the professor; he was searching for The Books! Hermione immediately dove into the pile as well, tossing aside cauldrons, sacks of candy, mortars…, while occasionally glaring in Riddle's direction to check on his progress. A flicker of gold and red was visible beneath her beaded bag and two copies of Advanced Potion Making. She grabbed Godric's work and pushed it inside her bag, when she noticed something green and silver made its way into Riddle's schoolbag. The two Slytherins stared at each other in a tense silence, when suddenly, a cauldron move upright between them. It was Slughorn. He was unsuccessfully trying to push the cauldron of his head. His futile attempts reminded Hermione of a very similar scene she witnessed just this morning.

'Here, let me help you, Professor,' Riddle said, drawing his wand to free the professor from his suffocating environment.

Hermione let out a snort at this sudden act of assistance, as if he wasn't the cause for the situation anyway. Riddle eyed her warningly, before casting a Banishing Spell at the cauldron.

'Thank you, Tom,' Slughorn said panting, still out of breath from the experience. 'And thank you, young lady. You made a nice attempt to help me. Don't be ashamed it failed. Not many people can levitate multiple items at the same time, especially when they're scattered all over the place. It's highly advanced magic,' and he patted her on the head, making Hermione's face flush a deep shade of crimson.

Riddle threw her an understanding, apologetic look after Slughorn's behaviour, which raised her temper even more. She was sure he had caused her Levitating Charm to disengage, making her look like a complete idiot in front of a professor. Hermione felt her knuckles tighten around her wand. Somehow it had made its way back into her hand. Tom raised his eyebrows in amusement at her flustered state and she glared back furiously. The smirk that crossed his face was the last straw.

'Have you seen my wand?' asked Slughorn, puzzled.

Once again, Professor Slughorn, who was crawling around the floor, had intervened a potential violent encounter. His eyes darted from Tom to his left and Hermione to his right, and he appeared somewhat confused. Hermione shook her head at the professor, but Tom bent down and started moving stuff around again. Hermione found it very suspicious that within seconds he had located and handed Slughorn his wand. 'Wonderful, wonderful, my dear boy,' said Slughorn beaming at Riddle, who was standing up again.

Tom made his way to Hermione and held out his hand. Unable to refuse it in front of Slughorn, Hermione let Riddle help her up. He jerked her hand a bit too roughly and she crashed right into him. Softly, he whispered in her ear: 'Keep it together, Evans. I don't want to end up in detention because of you.'

He squeezed her hand tightly before letting go and moving backwards, while his eyes sought hers, making sure she got the message.

Slughorn was still on the floor, his sizeable figure making it difficult for him to rise. He accepted Tom's outstretched hand and made it to his feet at last. Taking in the state of the corridor and all his belongings, he said in an upbeat manner: 'I guess it isn't that bad, no casualties after all.'

He waved his wand around. All the things flew back into the air, regrouped, and formed a new hovering tower of supplies. 'There, much better.' Slughorn stated, now eyeing Hermione with great interest. 'You must be the new student from Durmstrang, Hermione Evans,' he stated approvingly, and he stretched out his hand to shake hers. 'I'm Professor Horace Slughorn, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House. It is a pleasure to meet such a fine student. Top of your class, I hear.' A greedy look appeared on his face and his eyes darted with a flicker of hope from Tom to Hermione.

'She just got sorted into Slytherin,' Tom said lazily, confirming Slughorn's wish to be true.

'Welcome, welcome,' Slughorn said positively delighted. 'I'm sure you'll fit right in. Slytherin always has room for another bright student. Though, you might see that Durmstrang's courses are slightly less advanced than Hogwarts'. So if you have any problems with your classes, I am certain Tom here will be more than willing to help you out.'

Tom politely replied in an ever so charming and accommodating manner that he would be more than happy to assist Hermione. It took all her willpower not to growl at him. She did not need nor want _his_ assistance.

'See?' Slughorn said jovially. 'So, don't you worry about your grades dropping, Tom here is the best and the brightest we've got.'

Hermione noticed with disgust that Riddle managed to make his cheeks flush, faking embarrassment at Slughorn's last remark.

'Now, I was actually on my way to the Great Hall with this.' And he waved with his wand-free hand to the pile in the air. 'Apparently, we can't get any supplies out of the dormitories as long as the door is shut. Some kind of safety ward prevents it, or so Dumbledore says. I suppose you've heard about our little disaster, Miss Evans?'

Oh, Hermione had heard.

'And without access to their own items, I thought I might bring some along for them to use in classes. So, why don't you two come along? That way we can properly introduce you to your new Housemates.'

Slughorn's presence in the Great Hall turned out to be a blessing in disguise, since it kept the other Slytherins reasonably civil. Although, Hermione did notice the glances that were shared between Riddle and his cronies at Slughorn's introduction of her. Lucretia Black, who was previously deemed alright for a Slytherin by Minerva, started chatting with her. She appeared to be a female version of Sirius Black; looks and character. And Hermione felt somewhat relieved that she at least had one likeable person in her new home.

Walburga Black came by to question Hermione about her background, and after Hermione had indeed reassured her that she was a Muggle-born, Walburga left, pulling up her nose at Hermione. Lucretia wanted to apologise for her cousin's behaviour, but Hermione held up her hand to stop her before she could finish. 'I went to Durmstrang. I'm no stranger to bigotry anymore,' Hermione said, remembering Durmstrang's reputation, especially in this day and age with Grindelwald on the loose.

Lucretia smiled at her and told her she could take the bunk next to hers. Fortunately, Lucretia's bed was located at the far end of the Great Hall, and nowhere near the corner Tom Riddle had picked for himself. Hermione was very pleased about that.

A house-elf named Janckly brought her a trunk filled with new uniforms and all the necessary school supplies, courtesy of Dumbledore. So it appeared Hermione would be the only Slytherin tomorrow who would have all her materials for classes ready. After a while, Lucretia and Hermione got ready for bed. Lucretia planned to go to sleep. Hermione planned to stay very awake. And after she noticed Avery and Lestrange were staying up, because they sat at a table playing some kind of card game, she was definitely certain she would stay awake. So she went to bed with her wand in hand.

At first it was easy to stay awake, because those two were making a lot of noise, but after Walburga shouted at them, telling them to shut up and go to sleep like normal people do at this hour, they remained quiet. The grand clock in the Great Hall struck one. Hermione sighed and rolled to her side, bumping into her beaded bag. She held the bag close, because she was worried it and its contents would get stolen. And she figured that since she couldn't sleep anyway, she might as well check out the book from Godric Gryffindor. She took it out of the bag and opened it underneath her covers.

'Lumos,' she whispered, and the tip of her wand lit the very blank pages of Godric's novel.

Hermione snorted. 'Couldn't get it to work, Riddle?' she thought with sheer pleasure.

However, this meant she had to wait 'till tomorrow before she could try to 'unlock the secrets' of the book. Hermione closed it, but she didn't put it back in her bag. Somehow, having something familiar, something red-and-gold in her vicinity, made her feel at home. So instead, she held the book close to her chest, and lay on her side, waiting for the night to be over.

The clock struck two. Hermione tossed and turned around in her bed. She yawned and checked the Hall again. The two boys were still occupying the table, and Hermione noticed them glare in her direction from time to time. She was definitely not going to sleep now. Riddle, on the other hand, lay perfectly still in his bed. 'Merlin forbid the great heir from missing out on his beauty sleep,' Hermione thought with great irritation.

Subconsciously, she pressed Infinity in Space hard into her body, clinging to it for her very life. The book gave her a warm feeling inside. It lifted her courage and made her feel safe as it had, unknown to Hermione, started to emit a golden glow underneath her blankets. And within minutes, the warm, comfortable feeling made her fall fast asleep.

'BANG!'

A jolt of electricity flew through her as she jumped out of her bed with her wand raised. She was shocked at herself that she, actually, had fallen asleep. The scene she saw before her made her press her eyelids together, before she opened them again, to see if she wasn't dreaming. Lestrange and Avery lay in a crumpled heap on the floor in front of her bed. She looked around. It was strange. Nobody else had awoken from that large noise. She kicked Rodolphus, but he did not move.

'This is weird,' she decided.

She had set up a ward around her bed, but it was meant to warn her if someone approached. Not attack and knock out her enemies. Not that she entirely minded that, but she liked to know why things happened. So why had the ward taken down those two? Why had the space around her changed? Hermione stepped back and sat down on her bed. Her hand fell on Godric's book. She had let go of it when she jumped out of bed, but now, she picked it up again and laid it on her lap. Her eyes darted between the book and the unconscious future Death Eaters. 'Infinity in Space,' she murmured.

'Could the book be responsible?' she wondered as she opened it, but the pages were still blank. With a sigh, she closed it again, letting her hands rest on top of it. The book wasn't giving her any answers, only more questions. 'That's not what books are supposed to do,' she thought, scornfully.

And the more she thought about it, the more of those annoying, unanswerable questions popped up in her head. While pondering about everything that had happened and getting back in touch with her logical, analytic mind, she realised this was the first time since her arrival in the past that she felt like she was completely herself again. It shocked her to consider it, but she knew she had been acting very 'un-Hermione-ish'. A word she had rather cleverly come up with. It was like someone else was pulling the strings, influencing her acts, thoughts and feelings.

And what if that was the case? She knew it was not unheard of. She had witnessed how Ron had done the unthinkable and left. Ronald Weasley, who was Harry's best and most loyal friend, had left them to fend off Voldemort without him. It was something he would have never done on his own accord. It was due to Riddle's Horcrux. And she had worn the locket as well. She had felt the power it contained, but she had fought it, been able to resist it, but only just. Could the locket still, somehow, be influencing her? Now that she was so far away from it in Time and Space? And then she knew: she had left Harry too! He was all alone now, with a broken wand.

This, all this, had to be Voldemort's doing. He sent her Slytherin's book as Salazar told her, but he probably knew exactly what he was doing. It was never Salazar who pulled Voldemort's strings. It was probably the other way around, or they planned this together. Was it even Salazar Slytherin, who had talked to her, when she was underneath the Sorting Hat? She remembered she had first deemed the voice to be Riddle's. It had sounded the same, but they were related after all. And Voldemort had been there in the Headmaster's office during her sorting. How could she be sure?

This Tom Riddle did not know her, so why would he have taken such a big risk in front of Armando Dippet? She groaned. Dippet. The risk probably wasn't that great. But it wasn't just the Hat incident. There was the rest. Everything out of the ordinary she had done yesterday had involved Tom Marvolo Riddle. But it hadn't always started when he was around. She narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips together. She had, however, constantly done things that would draw young Voldemort's attention to her: hex his so-called friends, throw Twin fireworks at him, lock the Slytherin common room, and get sorted into his House. She never did reckless and foolish things like this, but she had been reckless all day. Ever since she arrived in 1944, she had done things without thinking them through, without weighing all the pros and cons. She had not been her sensible self.

'Hell, I locked Lord Voldemort out of his Common Room without considering that might piss him off and make him want to retaliate at the guilty party.'

And now, she was beginning to wonder why. Why had she been so stupid? Why did she not realise in advance that all those things would come back to bite her in the arse? And why…why…why had she been so stupid to let Voldemort or Salazar Slytherin talk her into going to _his_ House?

'Because he appealed to your sense of duty to others,' said a little voice in the back of her head. 'Because he pretended to care about the Muggle-borns…'

'The Chamber of Secrets! He built it! He built it!' Hermione shouted internally, interrupting the little voice inside of her. Her hand smashed into her mouth upon the realisation of her stupidity. 'Oh Merlin, what have I done?'

And she bit her lip. A tremendous feeling of dread washed over her. How could she have forgotten? She had seen those big yellow eyes herself. She never forgot things. Never. Now she was sure Voldemort had been involved, somehow. It had to have been that blasted book, and she turned pale when she suddenly remembered Harry's words. _'I'm holding the Horcrux, so why are you acting like you're about to attack me?'_

But she had been holding Salazar's book at the time, and she had felt really aggravated when Harry entered. _'Hermione,'_ Harry had said. _'You do remember, don't you?'_

He was, of course, referring to the journal Horcrux. And that thing had made Ginny do things she would have never done on her own. And Voldemort had a tendency to put his soul into objects that once belonged to the founders. Salazar's book had to be a Horcrux. That was the only explanation, wasn't it? She needed to know what this meant for her situation. Dumbledore had said she needed Eternity in Time in order to make it back home, but if it was a Horcrux, then she needed to destroy it. Only, destroying the Horcrux might mean she had to destroy the book's time travel abilities as well, and then she would be stuck here.

She needed to do some research. She needed to go to the library. No, she needed a library that would contain the answers to her predicament. She needed a space where she was safe and alone. Where she could work uninterrupted in finding a way back to 1997, and possibly get rid of yet another piece of Lord Voldemort's soul. The thoughts had not left her mind completely, when another jolt of electricity flew through her. Infinity in Space opened on its own accord, while a golden glow expanded from its pages, surrounding her and the bed she was sitting on. Another flash and a beam shot into the air, opening the ceiling above her. She saw the moon and let out a scream when the bed, suddenly, thrust upwards like an elevator. She quickly crawled more to the centre of the bed. She was afraid of heights and if this bed planned to leave the building…?

And it did. It hovered outside Hogwarts in the night sky for a second. The beam from the book changed its path, and the bed made a sharp right turn and seemed to be following the direction the golden glow steered it in. She noticed the beam hit the Gryffindor Tower. And the bed stopped right in front of said tower. If she would have dared to stand up, she possibly could have looked right into her old dormitory.

The book's leaves started turning, until the predestined page was reached. Another flash of gold, and suddenly, walls formed all around her. A floor and a ceiling were added. A door and windows appeared in the walls. Furniture formed itself, and just as abruptly as it had started, it stopped. The book flew shut, the golden glow disappeared with it, and Hermione Granger sat stunned on her bed. Her green-silver bed-covers clashing severely with the red-gold interior of the room she found herself in.

Seeing the bookcases lifted her out of the stupor she was in. There were so many of them. Carefully, she touched the floor with her foot, testing it. But it appeared solid enough, so she hopped out of bed and checked the nearest shelf. Excitedly, she noticed the books all seemed to contain information she needed. There were volumes on the Founders, mainly Gryffindor and Slytherin; books on Time-Travel, Space-Alterations, Object-Manifestations and the Nature of Humans; and there was a disgusting section concerning the Dark Arts. She recognised the textbook she had baptised How to Create Multiple Horcruxes and Become a Rotten, Evil Villain straight away.

The door in the room was the second thing that drew her attention. Where would it lead too? Hermione opened it and saw the Fat Lady snore in her painting across the landing. She placed a dustbin in the door opening, and checked out the corridors. But when she turned to re-enter the room, the dustbin was still standing there, only the door had vanished. All that remained visible was a blank wall. However, Hermione had some experience with hidden rooms and doors, and she walked past the door three times thinking: 'I need to get back into my room.'

And there it was again. The door returned in plain view. She opened it and was relieved to see the place she just vacated. She wondered if Godric Gryffindor had been the one to create the Room of Requirement, since its doorway worked quite similar to this one.

She walked back to the bookcase and pulled several books from the shelves, before returning to bed to start reading. Her previous sleepiness had totally left her upon seeing so much knowledge. She painfully hit her toe on the trunk that was placed under the bed. Apparently, all her belongings had joined her here as well. Hermione settled herself on the bed, with a pillow against her back, and she opened the first book that was titled: Times and Travels throughout the Ages. It was written by the infamous Salazar Slytherin, and she hoped it would give her an explanation as to how Eternity in Time had brought her to 1944. She was so engrossed in the book that she lost track of time. And when she put it down, she was startled to see the sun shining brightly into her room. She checked her watch and was horrified to see it was already nine a.m.

'I'm late for class!' she yelled, panicking.

Hermione quickly got dressed, grabbed her school supplies, opened the door, and ran down the corridor and multiple staircases to reach the Charm's classroom.

'Sorry, I got lost on my way over here,' Hermione said to the Charm's Professor, while panting heavily.

The old woman eyed her up and down with a stern look on her face. 'Miss Hermione Evans, I presume?'

Hermione nodded her head in affirmation.

'I am Professor Carefoch, and since you are new here I won't deduct any House points this time. Just don't let it happen again. Now, take a seat so we can continue this lesson about the Fidelius Charm.'

Hermione looked throughout the room and saw Riddle push his bag to the side to make room for her.

'Definitely not,' she thought. And she marched straight past his table to the end of the row, to sit down at the last table in the very back of the classroom. It was the only other one that was still vacant.

'Now, who of you can tell me what the function is of the Fidelius Charm?'

Three hands made it up into the air. Professor Carefoch overlooked the two top students in front of the class and chose the girl seated in the far end of the classroom.

Hermione rattled off: 'The Fidelius Charm is an immensely complex spell involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find, unless the Secret Keeper chooses to divulge it.'

'Very good, Miss Evans. Ten points for Slytherin,' Professor Carefoch said approvingly. 'And what are the weak spots of this spell? Anyone?'

Hermione definitely knew that one. She remembered very clearly how she unintentionally had given the location of 12 Grimmauld Place to the Death Eater Yaxley. Her hand flew back in the air again together with McGonagall's and Riddle's. But Professor Carefoch seemed to enjoy the change in her classroom and chose Hermione again. 'Yes, Miss Evans.'

'Once the Secret Keeper dies, everyone who knows about the secret will become a Secret Keeper themselves, diluting the power of the charm. Furthermore, you have to assign a trustworthy person as your Secret Keeper; otherwise your secret will become public knowledge anyway.'

'Excellent, take another ten points, dear,' Professor Carefoch said, now eyeing Hermione with sincere interest.

'Now, today we're going to make a start with the incantations of the spell and the movements of the wand that are required to accompany the words. Do not be discouraged if it won't work on first try. This is one of the most complicated charms in existence. You can read the incantations from Goshawk's Standard or…' Here, she eyed the Slytherins who obviously had not brought a book along. '…Or you can read it from the blackboard.' And she waved her wand at the board, causing the incantations to appear. 'Once you think you have mastered the incantations, let me know by raising your hand and I will show you the movements if I believe you are correct in your assumption. Mister Mulciber, if you already know how this charm is performed, then perhaps you can give us all a little demonstration?'

Mulciber, who was reading something under his desk, did not hear the professor's words and kept on reading. His neighbour nodded him in the side with his elbow, pointing his head towards the professor. 'Uh… I am sorry professor. I didn't quite get your question. It won't happen again,' Mulciber said timidly, and he closed his magazine.

'Make sure it doesn't,' Carefoch said, holding out her hand to confiscate the material.

Mulciber handed it to her with a red face. Carefoch merely glanced at the magazine in disgust and walked back to the front of the class. Hermione noticed that Mulciber was now in a heated but whispered argument with his neighbour. 'Perhaps the magazine wasn't his,' Hermione thought, amused.

'All right, any questions?' Carefoch's eyes darted the group before her. 'No questions, then you may begin.'

Carefoch went to sit behind her desk, indicating that she was done talking. So Hermione opened her book at page 306 and started to practise the wording of the Fidelius Charm. It was indeed a very complex charm. The incantations were hard to pronounce and there were so many of them.

'What is it, Mister Riddle? Do you have a question?'

Hermione looked up when she heard the professor's remark. Riddle's smooth answer came quickly. 'No, Professor. I believe I can give you the correct pronunciation of the charm, and you did say that we were supposed to raise our hand once we were finished.'

Hermione scowled at Riddle's response. She eyed the book in disbelieve. 'No way,' she thought. 'He can only have read this once. No one can master this in one try.'

But she did notice that she was the only student in class that seemed to think this was strange and impossible. Besides, Carefoch did not oppose Riddle's assumption nor did she tell him to keep practising. She simply got up from behind her desk and made her way over to Tom Riddle. Hermione totally forgot that she was supposed to practise the spell herself and watched the scene in front of the classroom in utter amazement, because Carefoch started showing Riddle the wand movements of the Fidelius Charm, which meant he got the incantations right. And what was even worse, he copied the movements immediately.

Professor Carefoch was nodding approvingly at him and Hermione heard her say: 'The entire charm please, just aim at the wall.'

And Hermione's jaw dropped several inches, when she watched a purplish circle emanating from Riddle's wand, encircling him first and hitting the wall next.

'Perfect! Take your well earned thirty points, Tom,' the professor said enthusiastically.

Riddle turned and his eyes locked with Hermione, who was still staring in astonishment. She saw the smug expression fly over his face, just before she averted her eyes and ducked behind her book. Her face became quite red from being caught staring at _him_. 'Prick,' she thought, but Professor Carefoch next words were a genuine reason to get distraught.

'Tom, I am afraid I've got nothing else left for you to do this lesson. So would you be so kind to help your classmates in mastering this charm?' _Hermione thought she was going to be sick._

'I would be honoured to assist you, Professor.' _Now, she was sure she was going to throw up._

'And another ten points for your helpfulness.' _Yes, she definitely needed a bucket, right now._

And what she feared happened. Professor Carefoch turned her attention to the Gryffindors on her right, while Tom started to move up the Slytherin line.

'Tom, what does it say here?'

Walburga's question stopped him from proceeding. Hermione glanced up from behind Standard Book of Spells: Grade 7 and hoped Walburga Black was as lousy in Charms as she was arrogant. That way Riddle would be stuck there indefinitely. Alas, Hermione wasn't that lucky. Apparently Sirius's considerable skills were hereditary after all. And a few minutes later, the towering figure of Tom Riddle stood next to her, but Hermione was just reading a very, _very_ important line and pretended not to notice him.

'Need any help, Evans?'

'No,' Hermione said, not looking up from behind her book.

'Are you certain? You're the only one who's still reading the text, you know.'

Hermione heard the utter amusement in his voice, but she did not respond.

'Well, I do realise greatness can be distracting.'

The comment forced a snort to escape her mouth, but she still kept her eyes firmly on her book. Though, only a fool would still think she was reading.

'You were the only one staring at me, Evans,' Tom said calmly, and he seated himself on the corner of her table.

Hermione looked up, annoyed that he positioned himself neatly on her table, not noticing the action obscured her completely from the professor's sight. 'I'm trying to read here, Riddle. And you're distracting me.'

She turned her attention back to her book again. Hoping he would eventually take the hint and leave.

'Pffft… It's like you said Evans, this is an utterly useless charm to learn anyway.'

Hermione frowned. 'I said no such thing.'

'Sure you did, when you pointed out its obvious weaknesses. I mean, telling someone a secret you're trying to keep is a foolish act to begin with. Everybody talks, eventually. And even if you do find someone trustworthy, someone that won't talk, they can still get killed. And the person who wants to obtain the secret can move on to the next Secret Keeper. It will only be a matter of time before that person will find someone who divulges your secret to him.'

Hermione shook her head. 'You've got a bleak view on friendship, you know. Sometimes people need to share a secret with another human being. It gives one a sense of belonging, of not having to face the world on their own. And another person's perspective can be helpful in checking the truthfulness of your ideas and thoughts. Let you see where your own blind spots in viewing the world are located. And by using the Fidelius Charm you can still share your secret, and hide it at the same time. It's a useful tool. I am certain of it.'

'You mean useful for the utter fools, who are too weak to think for themselves and need others to reassure them. If you're able enough to see all the perspectives yourself, you do not need others to tell you what to do. But do tell, Evans, amaze me with your fabulous view,' Tom mocked. 'What is the Fidelius Charm useful in?'

'It has been well known for it's excellence in hiding individuals from others.'

Riddle snorted. 'Bad example Evans, you've just proven my point. This charm has way too many weaknesses to hide someone indefinitely.'

'Oh, so I guess you know a better way, Riddle? Don't hold back; feel free to amaze me with your brilliance,' Hermione replied in the same mocking tone of voice.

'The best way to hide a secret is not share it with anyone.' Tom said calmly. 'If you need to remain hidden from another, if you're on the run, you need to stay on your own and not indulge yourself in silly acts like friendship. People talk.'

'You are…' Hermione started sorrowful.

'…right!' Riddle finished triumphantly.

'…pathetic,' Hermione said simultaneously, looking down at her book in thought.

It was eerily quiet for a moment after Hermione's last statement, but Riddle spoke up again, steering the topic of conversation in a different direction.

'You know, Rodolphus takes this class also, but he was unable to make it today.'

The words were spoken in a nonchalant manner, but Hermione did not miss the sudden shift in his tone of voice. He was angry.

Tom continued softly: 'He's in the infirmary, unconscious. They don't know what could have caused it, Evans. Care to shed some light on the matter?'

'Why? Do you actually care?' Hermione asked sarcastically.

The book lay forgotten on the table. She was now looking straight back at him. A flash of red dashed through his eyes.

'Of course I care if certain individuals keep hexing my friends,' Tom said menacingly.

'Perhaps certain friends should be using the night to sleep instead of harassing innocent witches.'

'I doubt you qualify for the term innocent, Evans,' said Tom, the irony dripped from his voice.

'You would know, wouldn't you? Since you obviously are such an expert on matters of innocence and guilt,' Hermione sneered, remembering how he had framed Hagrid.

'Perhaps certain witches should remember who they are addressing,' Riddle said, squeezing his eyes tight in anger.

'I think I've got a pretty good idea who I am addressing, thank you very much, Tom Marvolo Riddle.'

'I do not recall telling you my middle name, Hermione Evans.'

'People talk,' Hermione retorted, throwing his own words right back at his feet.

'What did you do to Lestrange, Avery and Nott?'

'Who?' Hermione asked, dumbfounded, since she did not remember a third party being present.

'Nott,' repeated Tom, and upon seeing Hermione's oblivious expression, he added: 'The Slytherin who is occupying the tent outside and who is covered in some kind of unknown sticky substance, which no one seems to be able to remove.'

Hermione's mouth fell open, but her expression shifted from surprise to delight. She bit her lip to stop the upcoming feelings of laughter. She bit her lip harder. Hermione started to snicker. He was still out there, the fellow that would grow up to attack George. She should get a picture of him for the twins. Her hand went to cover her mouth; her body started shaking; she tried hard to suppress her laughter, but it was a losing battle. Still muffling the sound of her laughter with her hands, she failed to notice Tom performed a quick glance in the professor's direction before he bent over, grabbed both her arms and pulled her roughly towards him. Shocked by this sudden act of violence Hermione stared straight in his eyes. They were blood red. Her laughter died out immediately and her breath stayed stuck in her throat.

'Now that I have your attention, Evans,' Tom hissed softly, his face only inches away from hers, 'let me explain a few rules to you. I do not appreciate anyone hexing my … friends, or thinking she can laugh in my face. Now, you become a good girl and answer my bloody question, or I will make you answer me. Do I make myself clear?'

Hermione did not respond and so, the two remained locked in a silent battle of wills. They were staring at each other angrily, and in Hermione's case, with a slight dash of fear in her eyes. Footsteps approached them and Riddle let go of Hermione's arms, but not before the threat left his lips. 'I will get to the bottom of this, Evans. Mark my words. When the time comes, you will tell me everything.'

Professor Carefoch nodded towards them as she passed Tom and Hermione. 'Homework!' Carefoch shouted through the classroom, and Tom returned to his seat in the front. 'I want a carefully written essay concerning the Fidelius Charm, and… AND!' she added a bit louder, after half the class started moaning at the near mention of the word essay. 'And I will be expecting all of you to be able to say the incantations of the charm the next time we reconvene. That's all.'

Hermione saw Riddle glaring in her direction, while he packed his bag, so she left the Charms' classroom in a hurry, thinking she didn't need a Horcrux in attendance in order to act dim-witted in front of Tom Marvolo Riddle.


	4. Chapter 4

**Masters of Manipulation**

**Chapter 4**

Hermione ran across the corridor until she reached the statue of the humpbacked witch. She leaned against the wall behind it. It brought back memories of better times, times when Harry had sneaked in and out of Hogsmeade through the secret passageway that was hidden behind the statue and had given Malfoy a heart attack by throwing snowballs and attacking him from underneath his Invisibility Cloak. Merlin, she missed Harry and Ron. It had always been the three of them against Voldemort, and at this moment, that felt like nice even odds. But now, she was on her own, Harry was on his own, and Ron was on his own, too. Lord Voldemort had neatly drawn them apart.

And the odds were definitely in his favour here.  
  
  
  
Hermione heard footsteps approaching, fast. She swept out her wand, stepped from behind the statue and hexed … _Minerva McGonagall_.

‘Oh Godric! I’m sorry,’ she said and held out her hand to pull Minerva back to her feet.  
  
  
  
Minerva was slightly dizzy from the impact with the wall after Hermione’s hex had rammed her Shield Charm and had thrown her across the corridor, so she leaned for support on the other girl for a second.

‘I’m so, so sorry. I thought you were …’

  
‘Tom Riddle,’ Minerva finished her sentence, regaining her composure and straightening out. ‘Are you all right, Hermione? I noticed he spent a considerable amount of time in the back of the classroom, and I was about to go over and check in on you both, but Carefoch held me up.’  
  
  
  
‘No, everything is not all right,’ Hermione answered. Her lower lip started to tremble and she felt her eyes filling up.   
  
  
  
Minerva gave her an understanding glance and pulled Hermione into a hug.

‘Come, let’s go to the Gryffindor common room. Nobody will be there right now. That way we can talk undisturbed, and you can tell me what is really going on. I’m sure Professor Dumbledore won’t mind if I skip his class.’ And she wrapped an arm around Hermione’s shoulders and led her upstairs.  
  
  
  
When they sat down in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione was dead sure she wasn’t going to tell Minerva a thing. She couldn’t; she wasn’t allowed. Things were worse enough with Dumbledore and Riddle knowing information about the future. It would be a bad idea to involve another—a really bad, bad idea. No matter how tempting it was to share her worries with a friend. Despite that she hadn't known teenage McGonagall long, she felt a connection to the Head Girl, and obviously, it was vice versa. Otherwise, she wouldn't have come to find and check up on her, a Slytherin no less.

_Bad idea, bad, bad, bad,_ she repeated it like a mantra.

Only her discussion with Riddle came back to mind, and she remembered his views on secrecy and friends. She was about to follow his example and tell no one. Had she really become just as pathetic as him? Surely, she could trust Minerva McGonagall. Her professor was one of the most discrete individuals she ever met and ... she could always reinforce it. The jinx she'd used on the DA parchment was easy to adapt to verbal vows. She'd researched the matter after she'd been totally unsatisfied with the prior results since Marietta had been able to spill her story first before it kicked in. Now, her jinx would definitely stop someone prior to talking.

_Oh, what am I thinking? I don't need to curse McGonagall._  
  
  
  
So, after Minerva promised her to keep her secret, Hermione told her everything. It was so nice to share her thoughts again with someone else and not feel the burden alone anymore. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend Harry and Ron were sitting across the table from her, and Minerva, as it turned out, was a good listener. She let Hermione talk and occasionally asked a question if there was something she didn’t understand.   
  
  
  
‘So Riddle did open the Chamber of Secrets,’ Minerva said, unsurprised. ‘I always suspected, but I could never prove it. Too bad you can’t clear Hagrid’s name, Hermione.’  
  
  
  
Hermione nodded her head and continued. By the time she was done telling McGonagall everything about Lord Voldemort, Minerva sat in the couch her mouth slightly ajar and her eyes wide open.

‘He is going to do all that?’ Minerva said weakly. ‘He is going to make those … What did you call them?’  
  
  
  
‘Horcruxes. He already has made two.’  
  
  
  
‘Two? But that Basilisk only killed Myrtle. I thought you said you needed to kill someone in order to rip your soul apart and create those horrible things?’ Minerva was horrified by the notion.  
  
  
  
‘He killed his father and grandparents during the summer holiday,’ Hermione said softly.

‘His father? But he is an orphan.’

‘He is now,’ she said dryly.

‘But the Trace ...?’

Hermione shrugged. ‘No idea how he got around it. I suppose having someone else take the fall for your crimes helps.’

Minerva grumbled. ‘Then we need to do something! We need to stop …’ Realisation dawned on the Head Girl's face. ‘You’re not allowed. You have to sit through this and watch, knowing what is going to happen but unable to stop it.’  
  
  
  
Hermione nodded in affirmation. ‘And you can’t let on to anyone that you know, Minerva. We’ll both get sent to Azkaban if someone finds out I told you.’  
  
  
  
Minerva nodded, and Hermione suddenly recognised the expression on McGonagall’s face. The youthful, joyous, carefree look Hermione had seen ever since she arrived in 1944 was gone, and it was replaced with the strict, stern look of her Transfiguration professor.  
  
  
  
‘Show me this room of yours,’ Minerva said abruptly. ‘If I understand what you’ve told me correctly, Godric’s book might have given you everything you need to solve this problem. And if we can’t stop … What did you say he called himself again?’  
  
  
  
‘Lord Voldemort,’ Hermione said dully.  
  
  
  
Minerva rolled her eyes at the ceiling. ‘Lord. Really, dream on, Riddle.’  
  
  
  
Hermione quickly added, ‘But you can’t use that name.’  
  
  
  
‘Lord Voldemort, pfftt …’ Minerva said with a scolding undertone in her voice, while making a dismissive wave with her hand.  
  
  
  
‘I mean it, Minerva. You’re not supposed to know that name, remember. If Riddle finds out …’ Hermione anxiously stated.  
  
  
  
‘All right, all right, I won’t use that ridiculous name. It’s not like I was yelling it across the courtyard. Please give me some credit, Hermione.’  
  
  
  
Hermione apologised, and Minerva continued, ‘So if you can’t stop _his majesty_ here, then we have to get you back home. So you and this Harry Potter boy can stop him there, because I’ll be damned if I am going to sit by and let _Riddle_ win this.’  
  
  
  
A determined pair of eyes looked back at Hermione, giving her an encouraging feeling, but also making her realise McGonagall wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Hermione took her to Godric’s room, where Minerva marvelled at all the books present. They talked for a while about their various options. Minerva came up with the idea to use a password for the entrance, so she could enter when she had a free period and Hermione had classes. They decided on ’Lemon Drop’, before they both left to go to their next class. Hermione’s spirit was lifted again, now that she was no longer alone in fighting Teenage Voldemort, and she practically skipped off to her next class—Potions.  
  
  
  
For the next couple of days, everything went smoothly for Hermione Evans. She found she could easily cope with the classes of 1944 and was not behind at all, even though she had appeared at Hogwarts when they were already two months into the school year.  
  
  
  
For some reason, Tom Riddle had not tried to make good of his threat from the other day, and he did not force her into telling him everything. Instead, he had been avoiding her, and he had looked thoroughly annoyed on the few occasions when she did appear in his vicinity. It struck her as odd, but she was not complaining about that. At least she was able to sleep in relative peace in the Great Hall, not wanting to attract attention to her Secret Facility.  
  
  
  
Lestrange and Avery had come to the other day, and they ran in the other direction with a tremendous fear in their eyes every time she came near them. She felt it was very entertaining, because _really,_ she wasn't that scary, right? 

On Thursday, Ministerial Officials arrived at the castle and took Nott and his tent with them to the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, and still the door to the Slytherin common room remained locked. Fred and George Weasley certainly knew how to create a lasting problem.  
  
  
  
However, Hermione and Minerva spent all their free time researching the books in Godric’s room. They were busy trying to find a way to return Hermione to 1997. It was when Minerva went through another book written by Salazar Slytherin that Eternity in Time came up again.   
  
  
  
‘Are you sure Riddle put a Horcrux in that book?’ she asked. ‘Because from what I’m reading in this one, Salazar was nuts enough to put you in this position himself. I doubt he needed anyone to tell him to support his heir.’  
  
  
  
Minerva held out A Nobility of Wizards to Hermione. It was a foul piece of work, all about how Mudbloods and Muggles were spoiling the face of the earth. Hermione put it down after a while. She did not need to read the entire message it contained to know what kind of ignorant racist's arguments he would raise, and she raised her shoulders at Minerva’s question.

‘Somehow, something or someone found a way to overrule the Sorting Hat and talk to me. That takes some serious magical power. Whether it was Riddle or Slytherin I don’t know, but I can't rule out the possibility of it being a Horcrux. And how I felt when I was around that book was quite similar to when I carried the locket.’  
  
  
  
‘There are many other magical ways you can influence someone without using your soul,’ said Minerva thoughtfully. ‘We know there isn’t a Horcrux in Godric’s book. We checked. And you said Godric’s book made you feel safe, right? Then maybe Slytherin’s made you feel aggravated.’  
  
  
  
Hermione desperately wanted to believe Minerva’s theory, because it would make things so much easier for her if that book would be proven soul-free, but she was still doubtful. ‘We can go around theorising for as long as we want, but I have to get that book back from Riddle and check it for myself.’  
  
  
  
‘I don’t think it’s a Horcrux,’ Minerva stated, certain.  
  
  
  
Hermione looked at her in disbelief. ‘How come?’  
  
  
  
‘Well, Riddle has the book now. If it was a Horcrux, surely he would know. He would recognise one, wouldn’t he?’  
  
  
  
Hermione nodded. She had mulled over and gone mad about that idea. The fact that Tom Riddle might be holding on to a book he could read and activate and from which he could also get all the answers about her and the future by simply asking his stupid, little, ripped out soul fragment was something that drove shivers down her spine.  
  
  
  
‘But he still questioned you about what happened to Nott. Why didn’t his Horcrux tell him? See, it isn’t one,’ Minerva said triumphantly.  
  
  
  
‘He’s avoiding me now,’ Hermione replied uncertainly.  
  
  
  
‘Which doesn’t make sense,’ she added. ‘If it was a Horcrux, he would know everything there is to know about you, including where you came from. He would know everything his old self knew. There would be absolutely no need to avoid you. On the contrary, he would be confronting you. I have no doubt in my mind about that. He would want you to fill in the blanks. Yet, he hasn’t tried that at all. And you said yourself the locket did not respond to the presence of the book.’  
  
  
  
Hermione considered Minerva’s words. Riddle’s behaviour had been peculiar the last couple of days, to say the least, but Minerva did make some valid observations. She sighed.

‘I can only know for certain what that book is or isn’t _if_ I get it back and check it for myself,’ Hermione stated again.  
  
  
  
‘Then you need to find a way to reopen the Slytherin common room, because I doubt Tom will do anything less than sleep on that book as long as he has to keep it hidden in the Great Hall. You’ll never get the book from him there, but you might get a shot at it if he deems his environment safe enough to hide it and leave it there alone for a while.’  
  
  
  
Hermione nodded in concurrence. Minerva’s words made sense. As long as Riddle felt insecure about his surroundings, he would not drop his guard for a second. She would not stand a chance in obtaining the blasted book, but how could she ever unlock the twins' …?  
  
  
  
She hit her forehead with her hand and looked at Minerva with sheer glee in her face.

  


  
‘I know a way to open the door to the common room. I’ll do it tonight.’

  
That night, Hermione stayed awake again, like she had done or tried to do the first night she had slept in the Great Hall. Another similarity to that first night was that she was holding onto Gryffindor’s book underneath her covers. Until tonight she had deemed it was safer in her Secret Room and had kept it there, afraid Riddle would try to get his book back. But he had not made an effort in that direction, yet. He was probably still busy deciphering Salazar’s written text.  
  
  
  
When she was certain everyone was fast asleep, she sneaked out of the Great Hall and went back to the dungeons. She barely avoided a run in with the caretaker of the forties, Apollyon Pringle. The man was just as charming as Argus Filch was in her days. Only he did not have an annoying, prying cat that supported him in his harassment of the students.

Eventually, she made it to the same hidden doorway she had thrown the Weasley Powder at. She could see some cracks in the wall that hadn’t been there before when she had first seen it, and there was definitely grey powder lurking in those cracks. She figured the damage had been done by the efforts of the professors to unlock the doorway.   
  
  
  
Hermione looked up and down the corridor again. It was completely vacant. She pulled Infinity in Space out from underneath her pyjama, held the book in front of her, and started thinking: _I need this doorway to reopen. I need this hidden door to return exactly as it was before. I need the students of Slytherin House to be able to use their common room again._  
  
  
  
A golden glow lit up the book and there was a dash of light. The book’s leaves fluttered by until they reached their predestined page. A golden beam shot out from the page and hit the wall before her. Grey powder blew from the wall, and she coughed when it entered her sinuses. The book’s glow ceased as abruptly as it had done in the past and slammed shut. In front of Hermione, a door was clearly visible in the otherwise blank wall.  
  
  
  
‘Finally,’ a familiar voice snarled, ‘I was beginning to wonder whether you would ever get tired of sleeping inside that Hall.’ She felt the tip of Tom’s wand press firmly in the back of her neck. ‘Don’t move, dear. I don’t want to feel obligated to hurt the latest pretty addition to the fine House of Slytherin.’  
  
  
  
Hermione growled inwardly. _Where on earth had he been hiding?_  
  
  
  
‘I figured you had found a way to make Gryffindor’s book work ever since that great vanishing act you performed a couple of nights ago,’ Tom said. ‘After all, you did manage to activate Eternity in Time as well. I must say it was very accommodating of you to hand that one over to me.’  
  
  
  
His wand tracked her skin to the front of her throat as he stepped right behind her. Hermione froze up when their bodies collided and his arm found its way around her waist. Her breath hitched in her throat when his fingers roamed her waist to find her pyjama’s pocket where her wand was stashed. Teasingly slow, he took her wand from her pocket, taking excellent care in making her feel the movement, so she would know she was defenceless. A flick of his wrist and her wand was gone. Hermione swallowed the huge lump that was forming inside her throat. She felt this was all way too close and intimate to be with the Dark Lord, and as her body tensed up even further, she could imagine the smirk on his face as his breath brushed her cheek.   
  
  
  
Apparently, he had caught on to her discomfort and decided to torment her a bit further by pulling her towards him firmly. Hermione gasped and closed her eyes in shock when he sneaked his hand underneath her pyjama shirt and caressed the bare skin of her belly and her side. Slowly, he moved up to her ribcage. His wand was pressed in her cheek to warn her not to fight him as his hand halted right beneath her breast.

‘How nice of you to be at my service,’ Tom whispered in her ear, his breath sending shivers up her spine. ‘Tell me, Mudblood, are you going to be a good girl now?’  
  
  
  
Her body trembled in fear, and she could tell he enjoyed it, even without seeing his expression, because he held her even tighter.   
  
  
  
‘I warned you in Carefoch’s class that I would make you answer my questions if you didn’t volunteer them to me willingly, Evans,’ he softly said. ‘I guess you have a decision to make on how you want to do this, because to me ... it doesn’t really matter. One way or the other, _I_ will get what I want in the end.’  
  
  
  
Abruptly, he broke their contact, moved to her left side and held out his wand-free hand. A relieved sigh escaped her lips.

‘The book, if you don’t mind,’ he ordered, smirking.  
  
  
  
Furiously, Hermione glared at him.   
  
  
  
Tom sighed and he lazily drawled, ‘Alright, also if you _do_ mind. Now, hand it over.’  
  
  
  
The last three words were spat in her direction. Noticing the distinct red gleam in his eyes, she gave him Godric’s book.

His wand still raised towards Hermione, Tom took a step back. He glanced at the book in his hand and opened it with the hand that was holding his wand. Her eyes darted from his wand to his eyes. If he were paying attention to the book, then maybe she could …  
  
  
  
‘I would not do that if I were you. I sincerely doubt you’re going to be fast enough.’  
  
  
  
Tom eyed her intently for a couple of seconds—a couple of very uncomfortable seconds, but he returned his attention to the leaves of the book and flipped through them. The corners of Hermione’s mouth twitched slightly. The pages were, after all, still blank. He seemed to reach that conclusion also and closed the book.

‘Disappointing, Evans, but you did get some action out of it. Get in there,’ he calmly ordered and nodded with his head into the direction of the hidden door to the Slytherin common room.  
  
  
  
Hermione turned pale and did not move. Out here in the corridor, there still was a chance of someone passing by. She really doubted she would get that lucky inside. Her complete lack of compliance made his eyes flash red again, and the hand that was holding onto his wand twitched slightly.   
  
  
  
‘I don’t know the password,’ she said quickly upon seeing the movement.   
  
  
  
She could tell he barely held back on the curse he was about to cast on her when he told her the password to the Slytherin Dormitories. It was pure-blood.   
  
  
  
‘How charming,’ Hermione grudgingly mumbled before she entered the common room, feeling incredibly vulnerable at being alone with him without her wand.  
  
  
  
She had never seen the inside of the Slytherin dungeon before, so she took a quick look around. Hermione took it all in with zero enthusiasm. It was, as Harry and Ron had described it to her, dark and gloomy, but perhaps her mood made her think that. She took a few steps further but halted in the middle of the room next to a low, wooden table since she had no idea where Riddle wanted her to go next. Tom swooped in after her, and he stalked right past Hermione’s frozen-to-the-spot figure. He tossed the book on one of the dressers next to a door standing slightly ajar and showing a downward spiralling staircase. On the door was a sign that stated: boys' dormitory.   
  
  
  
Alas, Riddle didn't walk down to take a nap in his bed. Instead, he proceeded towards one of the cupboards on the right. He tapped his wand at something inside, and she heard something heavy shift to the side before he ruffled through the contents, causing clinging noises to break the tense silence. He pulled out a small bottle with a black liquid in it and turned towards her, sizing her up. His mouth curved when he noticed Hermione’s eyes were darting to the bottle with clear apprehension. She had no idea what that potion could be, and she did not feel like finding out. She had never heard of a liquid that turned that dark before, and it could not be a good thing if Riddle was enjoying himself that much. He moved back towards her, all the while maintaining eye contact, and when he was right in front of her, he held the bottle up, showing it to her before placing it on the table next to them with clear emphasis.   
  
  
  
‘Sit down.’  
  
  
  
He gestured towards the couch on the right, and Hermione moved towards it reluctantly. Her heart was beating so violently in her chest that she was certain it would break through her sternum any second now.

‘What is that?’ she asked, sitting down, while her eyes were on the bottle at the table.  
  
  
  
Riddle gave her and the bottle a quick glance. He tilted his head, and with a vicious smile on his face, he said, ‘Nothing that concerns you _if_ you behave…’  
  
  
  
She felt her hands were beginning to tremble again, so she pushed them underneath her legs in order to try to hide their show and tell of her emotions.

_How am I going to get out this situation? This cannot be happening. It just can’t be._  
  
  
  
Riddle moved in front of her and sat down on the table, positioning his legs at the outskirts of hers. He folded his arms across each other and eyed her intently, leaning slightly backwards. Hermione’s eyes darted towards the hand that was holding onto his wand. He was using it to tap on his arm in a cool and collective rhythm. Besides her irregular breaths and his tapping, there wasn’t a single sound to be heard in the common room, until Riddle broke the silence.   
  
  
  
‘I suppose we should have that talk now …’ He looked straight into her eyes again. ‘You know, the one I promised you we’d have.’  
  
  
  
 _Oh no, he’ll find out everything. He’ll find out about Harry. I have to think of something. Why can’t I think of something?_ She panicked.  
  
  
  
‘Tell me exactly where you came from,’ Tom ordered calmly.  
  
  
  
‘You know where I’m from. I went to Durmstrang and …’  
  
  
  
‘Lie,’ he stated coldly, looking straight at her.  
  
  
  
Hermione swallowed hard and numerous thoughts raced through her mind. _He can already do that? I need to stop looking at him. Legilimency requires eye contact._

  
Suddenly, the huge chandelier was far more interesting than Riddle’s face; thus, she missed the amused smirk that followed her display of avoidance.

‘Look at me,’ he said barely above a whisper.

  
In response, her eyes darted from the chandelier briefly to Riddle, and then, to the floor.

Tom moved quickly. He pushed his wand in her throat with one hand while his other hand cupped her chin and tilted her head upward. He leaned in so close their faces almost touched, and Hermione’s breath was held captive inside her chest when he menacingly said, ‘I told you to look at me.’  
  
  
  
A gasp escaped her.

Satisfied with their eye contact, Riddle repeated his other command, ‘Tell me where and when you came from.’  
  
  
  
 _No, no, no, he already knows_ , she thought, freaking out completely.

_Of course he knows, Hermione. He saw you arrive here, and he has Salazar’s book after all_ , sneered a little, taunting voice inside her head. _You better say something or you’ll be on the floor screaming next._  
  
  
  
‘I don’t remember,’ she whispered in response.  
  
  
  
She sincerely hoped it didn’t sound as lame to Riddle as it did to her, but her mind was drawing up blanks.  
  
  
  
‘Oh, but it does, Hermione. It sounds just as stupid to me as it undoubtedly does to you,’ Riddle stated coldly. ‘Now, last chance, Evans.’ He drew the tip of his wand over her skin threateningly. ‘What year did you come from?’  
  
  
  
‘1997,’ Hermione quietly said, her thoughts scattering all over the place, searching for escape routes.  
  
  
  
‘And you live in?’  
  
  
  
‘Glasgow.’  
  
  
  
‘So you’ve been to Hogwarts before, haven’t you?’  
  
  
  
Hermione merely nodded.

_I need to stop this line of questioning, now. It needs to stop while I’m still ahead. Before I do something stupid and reveal something important. Something he hasn’t already figured out on his own._

  
‘But you were panicking when you arrived here and realised where you were.’ Tom’s eyes narrowed when he said this. ‘You were afraid to get tortured and killed. Why?’  
  
  
  
And there it was: the unanswerable question. The one that would reveal too much and would tell Riddle all about what was to come … 

_That’s it!_

Relieved she found a way out of this mess, she looked at him triumphantly.   
  
  
  
‘You can’t ask me that,’ she replied coolly.  
  
  
  
Riddle snorted. ‘Really?’ he taunted.  
  
  
  
‘You can’t afford to,’ Hermione said triumphantly, looking straight into his dark eyes, knowing full well she was speaking the truth right now and had absolutely nothing to hide.

Upon noticing the small frown that appeared on his otherwise cool and composed demeanour, she recklessly continued, ‘You know what. You’re absolutely right. Ask me whatever you like. What do I care? I’d loved nothing more than to see you make changes and screw up everything because of what I tell you. So in 1979, you hear this prophecy…’  
  
  
  
‘Silencio!’  
  
  
  
The dash of red light hit her dead on, but it was probably the first time in history when someone who got hit by this charm had an utter and utmost victorious look on her face. Hermione Granger had just outwitted the Dark Lord, and she was definitely gloating about it. Only, the gloating part was a huge mistake as she realised when he eyed her furiously. He raised his wand at her in a very familiar movement, and she froze up inside the couch, waiting for the Cruciatius Curse to hit her.   
  
  
  
‘Cru—’

  
‘Is the door open again?!’ an excited, little boy’s voice squeaked.  
  
  
  
Many things happened fast. Riddle, who was still sitting on the table in front of Hermione, angrily aimed his wand sideways at the tiny eleven-year-old standing at the top of the staircase to the boys' dormitory in his light-blue pyjama. Only for Riddle to get a clear shot of the boy, he lost his aim on his previous target. She did not think twice. With both hands, she grabbed a hold of his arm and wand, pushed it upward and threw her body into a forward motion. They clashed into each other and a Severing Charm left Riddle’s wand, hitting the chandelier at the ceiling above them. Hermione flew over the table, his wand in her hand, and Riddle screamed when the massive chandelier landed right on top of him, knocking him out cold.  
  
  
  
 _That wasn’t a very manly scream_ , Hermione thought, dazed.   
  
  
  
She crawled to her feet and observed the situation in front of her. The small boy was still standing in the doorway, watching petrified as the Head Boy lay unconscious on the table, covered up by the enormous chandelier. The little boy’s eyes were wide in fear, and she wanted to reassure him everything was just fine—perfect, actually, but couldn't. Quickly, she performed a nonverbal spell to undo the effects of the Silencing Charm, which Riddle had cast on her, and she told the little boy to go to sleep and leave the Head Boy to her.

  


  
‘Everything will be all right.’

  


  
_It already is,_ she added in her mind, watching Riddle's immobile figure amused.

  


  
‘And you have classes in the morning,’ she continued before she realised it was Saturday.

  


  
But the boy did not need any more incentive to vacate the scene and ran down the stairs, leaving her alone with a very unconscious, nice and quiet Tom Riddle—just as she preferred him to be.

  


  
Hermione sighed and flicked her wand. 

  


  
_‘Wingardium Leviosa!’_  
  
  
  
She then proceeded to move the heavy chandelier off him, mockingly informing herself about what a nice person she was and how lucky certain others were that she didn't hold grud—

  


  
‘Eek!’

  


  
The chandelier crashed to the floor in a thousand pieces when she stopped casting in shock at the sight of Tom Riddle. He was bleeding heavily. His lips were turning blue. His chest was looking suspiciously still, and then … everything became very, _very_ quiet.

  
‘Blimey,’ was all Hermione could mutter.  
  
---


	5. Chapter 5

**Masters of Manipulation**

**Chapter Five**

'Bad things happen to wizards, who meddle with time,' the thought flew through Hermione's mind as she stared at the obvious proof of that statement, the motionless, bleeding body of Tom Marvolo Riddle. He had been trying to get information about the future and was promptly hit by a giant chandelier. A nervous giggle escaped her mouth. The man, who would become the most feared wizard of all time, would now go down in the history books as the Head Boy, who died by dropping a chandelier on his head. Ron would be so proud. She hadn't been more than two weeks in the past and she had already succeeded in having the Dark Lord kill himself. He was dead, wasn't he? She poked the body with the wand in her hand, Voldemort's wand. Riddle still had hers in his pocket.

'Riddle?' she asked tentatively.

Another poke. Nothing happened. 'Shit.'

She grabbed Tom by his shirt and shook him violently, but that only caused her to rip his shirt apart and get sprayed with his blood. He wasn't coming to and he really appeared not to be breathing. Her first aid lessons came back to mind. Her parents, being health professionals and all, had insisted she take lessons from a very early age on. So Hermione checked for a pulse. It felt weak and faint, but she was relieved it was still there. Though, if the bastard wouldn't start breathing soon, that joy would end in a hurry. One does need oxygen to keep the heart pumping, and she _so_ wasn't considering doing that. No way. Never ever would she.

'RIDDLE! BREATHE!' Hermione yelled frantically, and she grabbed him by his shoulders and started shaking him again. 'I should not have sent that boy back downstairs,' she thought. 'He could have gotten help.'

Though, she wasn't sure on how to explain the current situation, but still, she needed assistance. So she yelled towards the dormitories that she needed help, but no one came. 'I might as well do something about those wounds,' she thought desperately, anything to stir her mind away from the not-breathing issue at hand.

She raised Tom's wand and traced it over the deep wounds the chandelier had made, muttering an incantation that sounded almost like song. The flow of blood seemed to ease; she wiped the residue away from his face and chest, and repeated the spell. Now, the wounds seemed to be knitting. After she performed it for the third time, she was happy with the result. Though, he would need to take a Blood-Replenishing Potion to get well again, and some dittany to avoid scarring. And … he needed to start breathing.

'Riddle! Come on!' she shouted, followed by another session of useless shaking.

His chest moved. Startled, Hermione dropped Tom, raised his wand, and jumped back, away from him. Black mist arose out of his mouth, like he was exhaling his fragmented soul out of his lifeless body. Hermione took another step back. A loud crack filled the room and she noticed the stone in the Gaunt Ring had broken in half. A black vapour began emanating from it, curling around the mist that was coming from his mouth, blending together.

'This is not supposed to happen… Dumbledore's supposed to destroy the Horcrux in the Gaunt Ring. This Horcrux still existed in my time.'

It was when the thought hit her. 'Time! Let's hope this works,' Hermione thought, and she raised Voldemort's wand and uttered the spell: 'Accio Eternity in Time.'

Later on she would wonder if the book had come so easily to her when she summoned it, because she was covered in Riddle's blood, because she was using his wand, or maybe because of both, but it came nevertheless. The book flew right into her hands, but now what? She did not know how to operate it. She flipped through the pages of Salazar's book hoping for some kind of divine inspiration. She remembered Godric's book activated when she stated what she needed. It was worth a try.

'I need to undo his death. I need this ring to remain intact. I need Riddle to keep breathing and stay alive. I need him to stay unconscious,' she added quickly, while thinking 'just to be on the safe side'.

A dash of silver light flew through the room, and everything appeared to be frozen in time for a moment, but then the black vapour sped towards her. 'Protego!' Hermione yelled in fear.

But the black vapour flew past her shield like it wasn't there and punched right into her chest. The pain from the impact made her drop the book and crash to the floor on her knees, crossing her arms in front of her chest. For a few moments her breathing was erratic and her pulse sped up to dangerous heights, but then, it all calmed down and everything appeared to be normal again. She looked up, when…

'Now, this certainly is unusual,' she heard Tom say.

'Riddle?' Hermione asked, puzzled, and she looked at the still body on the table. His mouth had not moved and he still appeared to be very much dead.

'What were you thinking, Evans?' An amused voice spoke inside of her.

Her shock at realising exactly where Riddle's voice came from was quickly replaced with anger. 'Will you get the Hell out of me!?'

'Oh, believe me Evans, I, who have never wanted to die, can honestly say that I'd rather be dead than be stuck inside the likes of you,' Riddle sneered.

'Well, what are you waiting for then? Feel free to die right away,' Hermione retorted in an equally sneering tone of voice.

'Hmmm, I wonder…,' Riddle said. And Hermione felt herself move up from the ground and walk towards the table, but she didn't initiate it.

'What do you think you are doing? Stop that, Riddle,' Hermione said angrily.

'Just checking something,' Riddle cheekily said. 'Pffftt…, Evans, I suppose healing wounds isn't your forte,' he stated, while looking at the knitted wounds on his body through Hermione's eyes.

'What's the matter, Riddle? Afraid your fan girls will walk in the other direction when they see your pretty face has turned into this? Besides, you only need to take some dittany to avoid scarring,' Hermione added; she felt somewhat insulted from his comment.

'Ah! So you do think I'm cute.'

'I said no such thing.'

'I can read between the lines.'

'Perhaps you should learn to hear the lines first.'

'You know there is a good reason as to why all those girls like me, Evans. Care to find out?'

'Could we focus on the issue at hand?' Hermione growled, frustrated with the contents of the current conversation.

Tom chuckled.

'Riddle,' Hermione stated warningly.

'Fine… fine… I don't want to be in here any longer either, so what did you do?'

'Excuse me?'

'What. Were. You. Doing. That. Attracted. My. Soul. To. Go. Inside. Of. You?' Riddle repeated, emphasising on every word like he was speaking to a four year old.

'You did not do that yourself?' Hermione asked, surprised.

Riddle sighed. 'Would I be asking if I had, Evans? You can be really dense at times.'

'Well, I'm not the one, who got themselves killed by dropping a chandelier on their head, Riddle. So I guess you really are top of the line in everything,' Hermione said, vengefully.

'Watch it, Evans. You don't want to find out just how many unpleasant things I can do to this body, while I'm stuck here,' Riddle said softly.

'Is that a threat, Riddle?'

Another sigh. 'Am I ever going to get an answer to that question or are we going to stay like this for eternity?' Riddle said, exasperatedly.

'The book, I summoned Salazar's book and I…,' Hermione thought for a moment.

'Well?' Riddle asked impatiently.

'You were dead. Your soul was coming out of your body. Then there was the ring and I…'

'What do you know about that ring?' Riddle said angry.

Now, Hermione sighed. 'Gosh, I wonder. What could there possibly be for me to know about that Horcrux!' she stated sarcastically, but she continued before Tom could respond. 'So I thought I needed to undo things and make sure you remained alive, and I was holding the book at the time, and then, there was a flash of silver light, after which you attacked me.'

Tom turned Hermione's head to see Eternity in Time, which lay a few feet away on the floor, closed. 'Brilliant, Evans,' he mumbled and started walking towards it.

'Riddle!' Hermione yelled, outraged at him for simply using her body without so much as consulting her on its movements.

He halted his forward motions. 'Look Evans, I'm just going over there to get the book, turn back time and undo this rather nasty experience for the both of us, if you don't mind.'

'You can, at least, say what you're planning to do before doing it. I like knowing where I'm going,' Hermione said grudgingly.

'Fine, I'm going…'

'Yeah, you just said that,' Hermione interrupted his mocking response. It remained quiet for a while, and getting irritated by Riddle's lack of response, Hermione said: 'Are you going to move or what?'

'I wasn't sure I was allowed anymore,' he haughtily stated.

Hermione rolled her eyes and growled. 'If this situation is going to last any longer, I will have no other choice than to jump off the Astronomy Tower.'

'Feel free to do so, after I have vacated this body.'

'Stop snooping around my mind and undo this situation,' Hermione said bossily.

'Yes, Ma'am.'

Tom Riddle walked towards the book and picked it up. He started skipping through the pages, until Hermione made an observation. 'So I guess you didn't turn that one into a Horcrux as well.'

Tom looked up from the book with Hermione's head. 'Turn Eternity in Time into a Horcrux,' he slowly said, like he was considering the option. 'Now, there is a thought… Too bad that is not possible without destroying Salazar Slytherin's magic from these pages, which is necessary to retain this volume's Time-Travelling abilities, which I believe are rather useful. Besides, I don't need my soul in these pages, considering that the Blood-Binding Charm that's on them already gives me full control of the book in the first place.'

'The What?' Hermione said, alarmed.

'The Blood-Binding Charm,' Tom replied, pleased. 'Surely you realised, Evans, that Salazar Slytherin would have protected his book so that only his own blood could use it. Or did you think you activated it yourself?' A cold, high-pitched laugh vibrated through her brain. 'I got to say I do fail to see the point in why I would choose to send a Mudblood here, but I'm sure there must be a good reason for you to get the attention of Lord Voldemort, Hermione. So do tell, did you know what you'd be getting yourself into when you spilt your own blood on these pages, or is this a rather nice surprise?' he asked tauntingly. 'Because now, Hermione, we are joined at the hip. Blood buddies. Two of a kind. One step up…'

'I get the point, Riddle,' Hermione said through gritted teeth. 'Will you stop the idle chatter and activate the damn book so we can both have a life again.'

She felt this turn of events was most inconvenient. It was a good thing there weren't any mirrors present for Hermione to see her face in, because the sight of Riddle's smirk on her own face, after her reaction to his revelation, might have been a bit too much for her to handle at the current moment.

Tom returned his attention towards the book. He flipped forward to page 201 and started reading from it out loud. He was hissing in Parseltongue. Upon finishing, he turned the book to face his body. The leaves of the book started turning, a flash, and a silvery beam flew from the pages and lighted up the body of Tom Marvolo Riddle. 'You'll need to get ready to blast the chandelier out of the way, otherwise in a couple of moments we'll have to do this again,' Tom said to Hermione.

Everything began to move backwards. It was a strange sight for Hermione. She was standing there with his wand raised in one hand, holding up Slytherin's book that had a silvery glow to it in her other hand. And there was this other Hermione that was moving backwards, putting the book down again … checking out Riddle's body on the table … kneeling on the floor … black vapour flowing out of her … back into Riddle's body … Hermione shaking and healing Riddle … Hermione on the floor beside the table, the chandelier on top of Riddle and it flew back up...

'Depulso,' she cast.

The Banishing Charm blasted the chandelier away, crashing it into the wall of the Common Room. For a brief moment in time, there were two Hermione's, before the one without the book vanished into thin air. After which, Salazar's book closed.

'Nice one, Evans,' Tom said, contently.

Hermione looked down onto the table, and a smirk flew on her face when she saw Tom trying to get up again. An alarmed expression appeared on his face as he saw her point his wand straight at him.

'Stupefy,' she said with an utmost satisfied smile on her face.

* * *

Hermione was walking the corridor, her schoolbag in hand. She was re-evaluating the last couple of weeks with slight irritation. She had stupefied Riddle, had taken her wand back, had dumped his beside his body, _and_ had taken both books with her. Only for him to get them both back within three hours, because for some reason, she had been unable to make it to her Secret Room with both books. It was almost like Eternity in Time did not want to go there.

However, she had found a way to retrieve the books back from him, and so did he in return…

It felt like the fates up above did not approve of the books being held longer than a couple of hours by one person, because it was unbelievable that every time she re-obtained them, Riddle would somehow be around to confiscate them back again. She saw his annoyed expression when he was trying to go through Salazar's and Godric's works, and she appeared around the corner, expressing her gratitude to him for handing her both volumes.

So ever since those two blasted books were around her, she had been unable to go to Godric's Room and read the volumes on the shelves. Minerva had found a few interesting things on Blood-Binding Charms. She had found out that was the cause of the manipulation Hermione had been feeling whenever she was around Salazar's work. However, now that Hermione was aware of that, she was far more resistant to it. It startled Hermione how similar it was to wearing the locket. Unfortunately, Minerva had been unable to find more information on how to send Hermione home. And Hermione wanted to check the shelves herself. She had faith in her former professor, but she had her own system of going through books. Perhaps Minerva was overlooking something?

After one night of nothing but frustration for not being able to get to read the books in the Secret Facility herself, Minerva had suggested to give the two Founders' volumes to her for safe keeping, so Hermione could go and read. But Hermione did not want Riddle's attention on her future Transfiguration Professor, so she declined the offer.

Minerva did, however, keep a close eye on her and Riddle, but since she was only one person, she could not be around all the time. The books changed hands so often it looked like a bloody tennis match, with the books acting as the ball. Currently, the ball was in Riddle's corner, and normally that would have meant that Hermione would have tried everything to regain the books from him, but not this time. Hermione was sick of it. She was on her way to her Secret Room to pick out a book she was able to read, instead of the two Founders' volumes. She hoped Riddle would choke on those two books, because she was beginning to doubt he was able to go through them undisturbed as well.

'Lemon Drop.'

The door appeared and opened, and for the first time in weeks, Hermione was back in her private chambers as Minerva had teasingly called them. She dumped her bag on the floor and went straight for the bookcases on her right. She was dubbing between a thick one carrying Ravenclaw's name and one by the hand of Gryffindor, when she noticed the little book hiding behind the others on the shelves. It must have fallen backwards being pushed there by the other more massive volumes. Curious, she picked it up, and upon reading the name on the cover, she became even more curious.

There were many volumes on the shelves from the other founders, but this was the first one she found that was written by Helga Hufflepuff. It was small, and could not contain more than ten pages, but Hermione was thrilled to find something from a poorly underestimated party. She opened it and started reading. It appeared to be a journal of some kind.

_My name is Helga Hufflepuff. I'm deemed to be one of the greatest witches of my time, one of the four_ _, who founded Hogwarts. I'm also the biggest fool in the universe._

Surprised, Hermione read the sentence again, but it really said what she thought she had read in the first place. Helga Hufflepuff, obviously, did not have a high opinion of herself. Hermione continued reading. Helga told her how she and the others had founded Hogwarts. How Gryffindor had used his knowledge to control space to build the castle. How Ravenclaw had used hers to add all the magical objects necessary. How Slytherin had manipulated time to ease their job. Salazar had stopped it when Godric needed to put in a large amount of effort to shift large spaces, and he had made time move backwards when they were unhappy with the outcome. And Hermione read how Helga Hufflepuff had controlled other humans to prevent detection, and how she, eventually, used this power to find every magical child on earth in order to populate the school.

'Control others? Sweet Salazar, Helga Hufflepuff knew how to utterly control another human being!' Hermione's mouth stood ajar at this fact and she looked slightly appalled at the pages. She knew this knowledge must have been the foundation of the Imperius Curse. Would Helga Hufflepuff, of all people, have been the creator of that curse? Someone who valued friendship and loyalty above all? Hermione just could not believe it and so she read on.

Helga explained how she had found the knowledge containing the human condition, and had used it to protect mankind, all magical beings and the school. She had created the Hogwarts' scroll that detected the birth of a magical child, and she was the true creator of the wards surrounding the castle that gave Muggles the illusion it was not there, or made them remember they had urgent business elsewhere.

_Enthralling the human condition means you shift their focus to fit all your needs._

As Hermione read that sentence, she realised Helga's control over others was far more powerful than the Imperius Curse, and she was beginning to doubt her first assumption that Helga had created the curse. Because if she had been, wouldn't the curse possess more force? Be unbreakable?

' _In that way, you can make people feel anything without touching them: love, hate, sorrow, pain, joy, life and even death itself._

'Holy Circe, the Cruciatus and Killing Curse! This knowledge is the foundation of all three Unforgivables!'

Hermione found this quite painful to read. This was not how she had envisioned Helga Hufflepuff at all. Salazar Slytherin, yes, but not this particular founder. But Helga had written down more. So Hermione read how the Founders, at first, had lived in peace at Hogwarts, teaching the children all about magic. How they had shared the knowledge they had. How Rowena had started pressing them to write it all down, because she did not want knowledge and wisdom to go to waste. And how four books were created: Eternity in Time, Infinity in Space, Mind over Matter and Love of Mankind.

'There are four of those books!' Hermione thought excitedly, before she remembered how much trouble she was already experiencing with the two she currently knew the whereabouts off. Somehow, that dampened her enthusiasm quite considerably.

' _And then, in our youthfulness and arrogance, we made the biggest mistake of our lives. We should have stopped by merely writing down the knowledge, but we had to leave proof of its legitimacy. Proof to generations to come, that we weren't merely theorising, but had practical evidence. Proof of our power and our grandeur._

_We decided to add the magical force to the books that would enable the reader to recreate the theory inside. If we hadn't have done that, if we hadn't been that foolish, others would not likely have been able to reach our results. After all, I could not control time; Salazar had no craftsmanship in creating spaces, etc._

_But we did, the four of us cast the spell, adding our own magical abilities to our writings. And that made the four books, if placed together, the most powerful f_ _orce on earth. We did not realise it at first, but we soon found out that the four books had a mind of their own. They were doing things, which none of us had initiated. They also had a tendency to want to be together. Somehow, they always ended up in the same room._

_And then_ _, it started… Slytherin started…He had written a book about the nobility of wizards. It was a book concerning wizarding heritage, the importance of pure-blood and it was utterly foul. Godric was furious after he read it. And the arguments started … over and over again, until one day when Salazar just left without a fight. We did not understand it, Rowena and I, Salazar leaving, abandoning his life's work, until Godric stormed in._

' _He used my book!' he yelled, waving a letter from Salazar in his hand. 'He used my book to achieve his foul ambitions of cleansing this school of those he deems unworthy!'_

_And sure enough, we found that Godric's book was missing. Salazar had taken it with him, and he had already taken the first step in ach_ _ieving his goals by creating a space to hold his pet Basilisk, using both Godric's novel and his own. He had gone back in time, when they were still friends, in order to create the Space that would become known as the Chamber of Secrets._

_Fortunately, Rowena's and my book were still at Hogwarts. Salazar had been unable to obtain all of them, but we knew it would only be a matter of 'TIME' before he would complete his task, get all four books and gain control of everything._

_So Godric asked me to do it. He gave me a cloak that used to belong to Salazar. I wasn't happy about it. I'd never used my powers in such a violent manner before. I would be attacking an old friend, but he would destroy all. I knew this, so I did it. I located his whereabouts, Apparated there, and made him hand me the books._

_He had been expecting me, and it was Hell. He fought me tooth and nail. I tried controlling his body, making him simply want to give me the books, but somehow he was able to repel me. He laughed, and told me my heart wasn't in it, that I should join him instead. He was right; I could not use my full force on him. So I only had the more disgusting options left. I cried when he was screaming on the floor in agony. I killed him and brought him back to life and killed him again and again._

_And eventually_ _, he gave up… He handed me the books. His eyes were filled with hatred and he said he would repay me for what I did to him. I left Salazar where I found him, and brought_ _ Eternity in Time _ _and_ _ Infinity in Space _ _back to Hogwarts with me. Salazar told me his book would be useless to us, that he had encoded it._

' _Only my true heir can use it!'_ _he yelled triumphantly at my back when I left, alone._

_Godric had asked me to bring the culprit back with me, because he wanted 'to kick his sorry arse' and destroy the Chamber of Secrets. But I couldn't. Salazar had been my friend. I had done enough damage. Unknowingly, I had become the inspiration for the Unforgivable Curses. Salazar would later in life create three of the most horrible curses, in my name, that somewhat resembled everything I had done to him that evening. I was thoroughly struck with grief because of that. It was the reason why I made sure that, except for one_ _person, no one would ever again read the knowledge in my book. It is too dangerous for others to know. Human Nature has too many dark features to be trusted with that kind of power over its fellow Man._

_However, the true nature and threat our books possess_ _ed had, suddenly, opened our arrogant eyes. We knew that we could not let something like this ever happen again. One person controlling all. The thought is horrific. We took Salazar's example and encoded our books as well, but I was not satisfied with the mere inscription. So one night I laid down all the books together, and I waited. Waited for the powers to mix, and for a brief moment, I felt it all; the power, the knowledge, the control. I was Master of Manipulation and I was in total control. It was an addictive feeling, dangerous, destructive. And I used that destruction to banish the powers from the books for eternity. That's when it happened. A jet of silver light flew around me, and I knew something went wrong. Suddenly, Salazar stood before me. He was an old man on the brink of death._

' _I knew it would be you, Helga, trying to destroy the books forever, for eternity. I can't let all my hard work go to waste,' he said, and he raised his arms in the air_ _, causing it to electrify with magic. 'When my true heir is born, eternity will arrive, and all will bow before him.'_

_Another s_ _ilvery flash and he was gone. The books were drained of their powers and I was alone in a very cold library. Salazar had got his revenge. We had deemed we were safe from his time-tampering hands, since he had always been a rather lazy man and had, therefore, laid all his magical ability completely inside his book. So after I had obtained that book from him, he could no longer travel through time._

_But we forgot he still had all the knowledge that lay beneath the pages of_ _ Eternity in Time _ _, and he used that knowledge to travel through time on the day when the veil would open for him. On the day of his death, he would be able to go everywhere for a few moments, because time is irrelevant in the beyond. And so he appeared before me and was able to prevent the complete destruction of the books' powers as a dying man. I knew that once his rightful heir would be born, the books magical abilities would resurface, and with it, the threat of someone controlling all. I had failed. Make sure you don't, Miss Granger._

Hermione dropped Helga's journal in mere shock at the mention of her name. She stared at the tiny journal on the floor. Surely she was mistaken. Her name couldn't be in there. It was late. She was tired. She hadn't read it correctly. Slightly apprehensive, she picked up the book again and opened it. And sure enough, there it was … her name written down by Helga Hufflepuff.

'What the deuce?'

_Don't be alarmed, Hermione. I'm not a seer. I'm not trying some form of control here. You can read this on your own merit and out of your own free will. This book is merely charmed to know the name of the individual_ _, who is able to find its existence. You, my child, are the Chosen One, which means you have the power to stop Salazar's heir from achieving his lifelong ambition. I hope you will take this assignment and help me correct my failure by destroying the powers of the Founders' books._

_If you are reading this, then, no doubt, you are already aware of at least one of the four books I previously referred to, and_ _you must have seen its powers. Most likely you have one in your possession as we speak, probably the one whose House you belong to. Because that would be the volume you would have been able to activate, until now._

_You will find that after you've finished reading this and_ _if you decide to take on the assignment, you can activate and read the volumes written by Rowena Ravenclaw, Godric Gryffindor and myself. After the incident I had with Salazar, we discussed what happened and charmed our books in such a manner, that the reader of this novel becomes a true Master of those books immediately. You will only need to find them._

_Salazar's work, however, is an entirely different story. For you will need to become a true Master of it_ _. There is no doubt in my mind that Salazar will have gone through great lengths to protect the power of the books from being destroyed, and they can only be destroyed by those able to use them. He will have taken every precaution he could think of to prevent anyone else but his heir to be able to use his book and I can't help you there. You, and you alone, must find a way to get the knowledge inside, and use_ _ Eternity in Time _ _. For only the real Master of Manipulation, the one who holds the knowledge and controls the powers of all four volumes, can obtain total control and destroy the books, so the threat they possess will be eliminated for good._

_You do not have to be the one. You may choose not to. You can put this book back on the shelf where you found it and leave. And when you wake up tomorrow, you will not remember this. It will be like it was all a bad dream. However, if you decide to do this, to help me correc_ _t my error, there will be no going back on it once you've accepted the task. If you accept the task of destroying the books, then the chant you'll need to perform on them will appear beneath this script. Memorise it and then destroy this book after you're done. No knowledge must remain._

_If you wan_ _t to do this, if you accept this task, then write down the words "Yes, I accept." onto the page and I will thank you from the bottom of my heart when we will, eventually, meet._

_Good Luck and Best Wishes,_

_Helga Hufflepuff_

Hermione stared at the book for some time as she thought about her options. She really didn't have much of a choice here. She was trapped in the wrong time and Slytherin's book was the key to returning home for her. She couldn't afford not to remember any of this and one other thing was also certain in her mind. Tom Riddle couldn't be allowed to become Master of Manipulation. Lord Voldemort was enough of a problem without having the power to control all. She didn't want to imagine what he would do if he became omnipotent. So she picked up her quill, dipped it in ink and wrote down: 'Yes, I accept.'

The words disappeared into the page and a chant appeared in clear sight. Hermione read it a couple of times, until she was certain she knew it by heart. And with tremendous pain in her heart, Hermione threw Helga's journal in the fire and watched the book burn to a crisp. After having used the fireplace to burn a book, Hermione felt uncomfortable in Godric's Room. She wanted to leave the vicinity of her crime and put some distance between herself and what she had done. If someone would have told her that she would one day burn a book, she would have screeched and scolded them about the sacrilege of it, until they had apologised to her effusively. But here she was … a Book-burner, stuck in 1944 with the Heir of Slytherin, in a race for the control of the Universe. It sounded like a stupid television show to her.

Fortunately, the Heir was still unaware of this possibility, as far as she knew, anyway. And she'd better act quickly, before he became aware, because that would complicate matters severely. So Hermione exited the Secret Room on a mission. She needed those books back from Riddle, and she needed to find the other two. She needed to find a way to become Master of Eternity in Time, but how she was ever going to be able to achieve that impossibility was beyond her.

But first things first, it was now even more important than before to get the books away from Riddle. So she was on her way to the library, because that was where she had last seen Riddle and he probably had the books with him. However, she ran into an excited Minerva McGonagall on the way over there.

'I've got the books!' Minerva shouted.

'What?' Hermione asked, astonished.

Minerva opened her schoolbag and showed Hermione the two books. Hermione was shocked at seeing this.

'Why…how… what…? Are you crazy!?' she yelled. 'Now Riddle knows you're involved! I thought we agreed that we would keep that a secret! How could you risk your own future and the future of those, who are depending on you?!'

Minerva looked taken aback by Hermione's rage, so she tried to reassure Hermione by telling her what happened. 'He did not know it was me. I attacked him from behind. He probably thinks you hexed him. Sorry for that by the way,' said Minerva, and she handed Hermione the two books.

Hermione relaxed a bit at hearing those words and she placed the books in a hidden false bottom of her schoolbag, underneath her school supplies, before she said: 'Please, promise me you won't do it again. I would never forgive myself if something happens to you, because of what I told you. The books aren't worth it, you know. I'm probably going to lose them to Riddle in a couple of hours from now, anyway.'

'Okay, I promise. It was kind of fun though, seeing him go down. He hit his face on the table after I used the full Body-Bind Curse on him,' Minerva snickered.

'Sounds like fun indeed,' Hermione said snickering along.

But she did not tell Minerva what she had just learnt from Helga's journal. She feared that if Minerva knew, there was no way she would stay out of Riddle's way, and Hermione felt Minerva had jeopardised herself enough on her account. She did not think about what she had once told Harry when he was determined to do everything on his own, when he did not want to risk another's life.

' _When are you going to realise we're all in this together, Harry.'_


	6. Chapter 6

**Warning:** Severe Deathly Hallows Spoilers in this chapter! I used some direct quotes from it, so everything you recognise comes from that book and the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling (bows deeply, lots of hem of robe kissing), I on the other hand do not own a penny or thought from it (too bad).

* * *

**Masters of Manipulation**

**Chapter Six**

He was going to drown, there was nothing left, nothing he could do, and the arms that closed around his chest were surely Death's…

'Are you mental? Why the hell,' panted Ron, holding up the locket, 'didn't you take this thing off before you dived?'

Harry could not believe it. There before him stood Ron, the sword of Gryffindor in one hand and the Horcrux dangling from its broken chain in the other. He had just saved Harry's life by diving into the pool after him. Harry didn't dare to blink with his eyes, afraid Ron would disappear in a flash like Hermione had only hours ago. He looked at the sword in Ron's hand. Finally, they could destroy that damn Horcrux.

Harry had to admit Riddle put up quite a fight. But in the end, Ron was able to overcome the taunting, sneering voice and the obvious painful images Riddle had shown him, trying to stop Ron from killing him. He had been unsuccessful. Ron had, eventually, swung the sword and stabbed the locket, destroying the bit of soul that was in it. Harry felt Riddle might have had a chance of survival had he not made Ron furious by visualising a Hermione who kissed Harry. However, these exact images were what made Harry's next job incredibly difficult. He had to tell Ron that Hermione had vanished, and how.

'What!?' Ron yelled, 'and you let go of her!?'

'I couldn't hold on, mate. She was yanked right out of my hand with so much force I've never felt anything quite like it. Besides, she was doing the Apparation, not me.'

'Oh! So now this is all her fault!?' Ron shouted, angry.

'That's not what I meant!' Harry shouted back. 'I meant that without a proper working wand, I could not take control over the situation and stop whatever it was that pulled her away from me. I'm lucky I didn't get Splinched all over the place.'

Ron, who had lost two fingernails due to Splinching, calmed down a bit, and finally asked: 'Where do you think she is?'

'I have no idea,' Harry said, sorrowful.

'He's got her,' said Ron softly, 'Voldemort's got her.'

'No!' Harry shouted defiantly.

He knew this was not the case. He would feel it, wouldn't he? If Voldemort had Hermione, he would be the first to know. His scar would burn with joy and excitement, and he would see what happened. He would see Hermione through Voldemort's eyes. That thought made him sick to his stomach, and he wished he hadn't brought his friends along for the ride. Hermione could have been safe.

'I haven't seen her,' he finally told Ron. And he remembered some of the things he had seen through Voldemort's eyes lately.

' _Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Gregorovitch. He knows… he always knows. Who was the thief, Gregorovitch?'_

' _I do not know, I never knew, a young man – no – please – PLEASE!' A dreadful, terrifying scream that seemed to last forever, and then a burst of green light ending the sound permanently.'_

That had been his last recollection of Voldemort's actions. Besides the whole Godric's Hollow incident and the memory of Voldemort killing his parents. Voldemort's Occlumency towards Harry always dropped whenever he was feeling an extreme emotion. Catching Hermione… Surely that would be emotional enough to trigger Harry's connection to him, and even if it wasn't, Voldemort might still drop his Occlumency on purpose to show Harry he had his friend. He couldn't have Hermione; he just could not have her…

Ron's quiet voice interrupted Harry's thinking.

'You don't know this for sure. You can't be certain he hasn't got her. His Death Eaters could have taken her prisoner for him. He doesn't have to be around,' Ron said, docile.

But his eyes were looking hopeful at Harry, as if he wanted Harry to set him straight. To tell him he was certain Hermione had not been taken by Lord Voldemort. To provide him with clear evidence Hermione was safe, but Harry could not give Ron this security anymore. He wasn't certain himself. And when Harry did not provide Ron with the correction he so desperately wanted, Ron added injury to pain.

'You said it was a book by Salazar Slytherin, surely you should have realised it came from him. I can't believe you two didn't trash that book right away. I would have burned it to a crisp.'

'Well, _you_ weren't around,' Harry replied scornfully.

Harry immediately felt sorry for his comment, when he saw Ron turn pale and noticed the guilty expression upon his face. Ron felt as bad, if not more, as he did about Hermione's disappearance. For a short time they stared at each other in silence, when suddenly…

A dash of silver light, a crash, a beaded bag fell down, a book flew through the air, and there she was, crouched on the floor between them, emptying her stomach. Hermione Jean Granger had reappeared back in 1997.

'Hermione!' Harry and Ron shouted in unison. They both dove down and hugged their friend senseless.

'Get off me,' Hermione said weakly, 'You're making it worse. Ohhh…'

And she threw up again. But right now Harry and Ron did not mind getting sprayed with a bit of vomit at all. They were so relieved to see her, alive and well, that she could have covered them in manure for all they cared. After a while, Hermione stopped vomiting and pointed towards her bag, breathing heavily.

'Invigoration Draught, red bottle,' she queasily said, while Ron was holding her tight in his arms, planning to never let go again.

Harry stood up and ruffled through the bag. He handed her the bottle and after she had taken a sip of the potion, the colour returned to her face and her brown eyes began to sparkle again. She ran her sleeve past her forehead to wipe off the sweat, making Ron and Harry noticed her arm.

'What happened to your arm?' Ron asked, shocked, upon seeing the large burn mark that covered her entire left arm from top to bottom.

'Long story,' Hermione stated coolly, and she turned her head around and checked out the area she had landed in. She noticed Salazar's book and she quickly grabbed it. Her eyes still darting around the environment, she pushed it underneath her sweater and asked: 'Where am I?'

'The Forest of Dean,' Harry answered. 'You just disappeared three hours ago. What happened? Where have you been? And why are you dressed in Slytherin robes?'

'I just disappeared? So it's still December 1997,' Hermione concluded. She stood up and pulled out her wand. Her head swung back and forth in an attempt to investigate her surroundings again, like she was missing something or someone. 'You didn't see anyone else?' she asked nervously.

'No,' Harry said worried, 'just you.'

His eyes started darting their surroundings as well. He locked eyes with Ron, who seemed equally worried about Hermione's behaviour.

'What's going on, 'Mione,' Ron asked. 'Why have you pulled your wand out?'

'I didn't exactly travel alone, Ron,' Hermione said anxiously.

Ron pulled out his wand too. 'Who was with you then?'

'Vol –'

'Hermione, no!' Ron shouted and he aimed his wand at Harry's face. A bang, a burst of white light and Harry's face swelled up rapidly.

'-demort,' said Hermione.

'The name's Taboo!' Ron bellowed, as loud cracks sounded all around them, and five wands were pointing straight towards them.

* * *

Hermione had no idea they had Taboo-ed Voldemort's name. How was she supposed to know? She was stuck in 1944 after all. No one informed her of this. And now, because of her little slip up, they had been taken to Malfoy Manor, the base of his operations. But the main thought that kept rushing through Hermione's mind, while Greyback was practically salivating over the prospect of getting permission to bite her, was… where on earth had Mini Voldemort gone to? Hermione knew she had the book, so where was Tom Riddle?

They were dragged in front of the Malfoys. Lord Voldemort obviously wasn't in, and Lucius was eyeing Ron and Hermione with clear excitement before turning to face Harry, who looked absolutely horrific with his face disfigured like that.

'Well Draco?' asked Lucius Malfoy, sounding avid. 'Is it? Is it Harry Potter?'

She noticed Draco wasn't too keen to move forward. He probably didn't want to be in the vicinity of Greyback, and he seemed scared, even reluctant to look at Harry. 'I can't – I can't be sure,' said Draco, to her astonishment.

'What about the Mudblood, then?' growled Greyback.

Narcissa moved towards Hermione and she sharply said: 'Yes, yes, she was in Madam Malkin's with Potter! I saw her picture in the Prophet! Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?'

'I… maybe… yeah,' Draco answered hesitantly, moving away from them.

'But then, that's the Weasley boy!' shouted Lucius. 'It's them, Potter's friends. Draco look at him, isn't it Arthur Weasley's son, what's his name…?'

'Yeah,' said Draco again, his back now turned towards them. 'It could be.'

The door opened and she came in, the bitch from Azkaban. The sound of her high shrieking voice punctured Hermione's eardrums painfully. And then, they started arguing, the lot of them. About who would take the credit for the capture of Harry Potter, about who would press their mark and summon the Dark Lord, about who would be rewarded, and with what.

'Pathetic,' was all Hermione could think, 'glad I don't have to rely on idiots like that to get the job done.'

Hermione sincerely hoped they would kill each other and be done with it. She saw Lucius's hand move towards the Dark Mark on his arm…

'Stop!' shrieked Bellatrix. 'Do not touch it! We shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!'

Her dark eyes were fixed on the Snatcher, who held the sword of Gryffindor in his hands, as she spoke those words. Apparently, the sword was supposed to be in the Lestrange's vault, and she was freaking out at the concept that Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger might have been in there. She was freaking out, because her vault contained another item of value to the Dark Lord, namely the cup of Helga Hufflepuff. And if the trio had got the sword, then they might have got that one as well. Bellatrix Lestrange did not tell them this, of course, but from her anxious muttering, Hermione could put two and two together. So Hermione figured out there was a Horcrux hidden in the vault; the fact that it was Helga's cup, she would find out later.

'Do it! You have no idea of the danger we are in!' Bellatrix's violent shrieking drew Hermione's attention back to her again.

Lestrange looked frightened, mad. And Greyback and his men were ordered to take the trio to the cellar. Well, not all of them. Hermione was the exception. Bellatrix wanted her to remain behind. Hermione could feel the despair come from Ron when he started shouting: 'No! You can have me, keep me!'

Hermione swore that some day she would get back at that witch when Bellatrix hit Ron hard across his face and told him that if his girlfriend died under questioning, he would be next. Ron was screaming out Hermione's name, when he and Harry were dragged off towards the cellar. After everyone left, she was alone in the living room with Miss Nutters and the Malfoys. Draco was sent away as well, to his own relief. And Hermione took the time to examine the room more thoroughly. She noticed the Malfoys had a chandelier hanging at the ceiling.

'Now that would be ironic,' she thought upon remembering another chandelier incident from a couple of months ago.

And she realised it was just her and a bunch of overgrown loonies. And she knew what was going to happen, but Bella would be in for a ride. This wouldn't be the first time Hermione Granger was on the receiving end of the Cruciatus Curse, and hers could not possibly be worse than his. Not by a long shot. So, her mind was racing, thinking of a cover story to tell Lestrange about the sword, when the first Crucio hit her.

'I was right. This isn't nearly as bad as when _he_ did it,' Hermione thought triumphantly.

She realised that even at age seventeen, Tom Riddle's powers were far greater than those of his Death Eaters. You never had to wonder why he was the Puppet Master pulling the strings. So even though Bellatrix Lestrange's Cruciatus Curse was still a very painful experience, Hermione was able to keep thinking, unlike when he did it. So she gave a nice performance. She screamed, she pleaded, she cried, and she told Bellatrix a whole lot of bullshit. So when the three of them managed to escape the clutches of their enemies, Lestrange thought the sword was a fake and the Horcrux secure. But now, Hermione knew its location…

So when she had shared that information, while they were all sitting in Bill and Fleur's living room, Harry took charge of the situation and Hermione felt so proud of him. He had matured so much. She realised she had not noticed it before, probably because they were always around each other, but being away from him for so many months made her see the difference between the boy he once was and the man he had become.

They were discussing on how to retrieve the item from Gringotts when, suddenly, Ron remembered. He noticed Hermione's burned arm again, when she took of the sweater in the very warm living room, and that reminded him they still had no idea where Hermione had been and what had happened to her. Her disappearance had been pushed to the side due to all the horrible circumstances that happened after her return, but now it came up again. So she told them everything that happened. She told them every little detail of her life with Tom Riddle in his last school year. When she was finished, the boys were staring at her with horror in their faces.

'So now we have to worry about Horcruxes, Hallows, and a bunch of Books that will make him invincible?' Ron asked, clearly overwhelmed by it all.

'And a second Vol… Riddle,' Harry added, quickly stopping himself from saying the name upon remembering the Taboo. 'Any thoughts on where he could be, Hermione?'

Hermione shook my head and she said: 'I don't know what happened. I'm not the one operating the book, so I don't understand why it remained with me, when he obviously has travelled elsewhere.'

'So if I understand this Time-Travel-Thing correctly, then wherever Tom Riddle has ended up, he is stuck there,' Harry said eyeing her intently.

She nodded her head. 'As long as he doesn't have this book,' and Hermione pointed towards her sweater where the book remained hidden, 'he is.'

'Good,' said Harry.

Ron and Hermione looked at him in astonishment. Ron spoke first. 'How in the bloody name of Salazar Slytherin can the existence of a second You-Know-Who be good?'

And it dawned upon her when Harry smiled knowingly. She had not thought of it sooner, because it had not been a problem for her during her days in the past, since she was not born yet. But Riddle was at risk of running into himself, and he had no means to escape his predicament. She had the book. Hermione realised Harry must have remembered what she told him when she used the Time-Turner in her third year.

' _T_ _he danger one faces when running into oneself is enormous. Time has strange capacities. It is cruel and unforgiving, and it does not appreciate tampering. Time is like an entity of its own,' Hermione had said to Harry back then._

So if Riddle were to run into himself, then Time would act with devastating consequences for him. And without the book, he could not prevent Time from correcting the paradox. He would be thrown from existence, destroyed beyond remembrance. He would simply vanish like he never existed. Harry and Hermione looked at each other in mutual understanding. 'Could all our problems disappear so easily?' was all Hermione could think.

Ron was looking at them with confused eyes, so she explained it to him.

'But surely he would know that,' Ron said. Obviously, he found the second presence of a Voldemort still not something to be joyous about. 'He could avoid himself, couldn't he?'

'Not that easily, Ron. When I used the Time-Turner, I was constantly walking in my own shadow, tracing my footsteps. Simply, because Time does not like it when there are two of you present. It constantly tries to rectify the mistake.'

'So you mean Time will want to make him meet his other self?' Ron asked, stunned.

'That's exactly what Time will try to accomplish and it will succeed, if he is not careful.'

'Blimey, but … that means he will want his book back.' Now, Ron was eyeing her with sheer concern in his face.

'I have no doubt about that,' she said, laughing.

'Which means,' Harry added, 'we won't have to go looking for him. He will find us or he will find himself, preferably the latter. However, let's concentrate on the matter of the Horcrux in the Lestrange vault first, before they decide it will be safer elsewhere.'

Hermione saw from the look on Ron's face that he really wasn't finished with debating the issue concerning Riddle and Salazar's book, and what kind of danger that imposed upon his beloved, but he let it rest for now. And, eventually, they went off to Gringotts. They got into the Lestrange's vault, obtained the cup, and ran into heavy resistance when they were trying to leave.

'Thieves! Thieves! Help! Thieves!'

Several goblins and wizards were advancing on their position and they started firing hexes in every direction. Hermione noticed Harry was shooting spells at the chained dragon, breaking its cuffs.

'This way!' Harry yelled, and still shooting stunning spells at the advancing goblins, he sprinted towards the blind dragon.

She could not believe what he was planning to do. 'I hate flying,' she thought anxiously.

'Harry, Harry, what are you doing?' she asked, hoping to change his mind.

'Get up, climb up, come on.'

Against her better judgement Hermione climbed on behind Harry and noticed that the hard scales of the dragon did not provide any kind of place to hold onto. Ron hopped on behind her, and when the dragon moved up into the air, she knew they were all going to plummet to their death. The dragon dived towards the passage-opening and Hermione screamed in fear.

'We'll never get out, it's too big!' she yelled.

'Defodio!'

She recognised the voice that widened the passageway, but she did not believe it. The person, who owned that voice, jumped on the dragon too and almost succeeded in pushing Ron off the dragon completely. Hermione was just able to grab a hold of Ron's arm before he fell to his death. She felt two other arms grabbing a hold of her waist firmly, preventing her from tumbling down with Ron, and she heard his cold voice in her ear. 'You don't mind if I tag along, now do you Hermione?'

'Harry!' she yelled in panic.

Quickly, Harry grabbed a hold of Ron's other arm. He thought Hermione was losing her grip and that was why she screamed out his name. But Ron knew the real reason and his blue eyes fumed daggers at Tom Riddle, who sat behind Hermione, holding on tightly to her waist, while a blue-bronze leather book was resting in his hand.

However, Ron realised his angry glaring was not getting rid of the bastard and he started screaming at Harry to get Riddle. Harry merely eyed him as if Ron had lost his mind. He was still unaware of the new passenger on board the dragon. Furiously, Ron nodded his head towards Riddle's direction. Harry turned his head to face Hermione and the stowaway smirked at him.

'BANG!'

Another crack and they almost toppled over as the dragon rammed a way through the passage into the marble hallway. Goblins and wizards shrieked and ran for cover. The dragon went for the metal doors…

'I trust this is Salazar's book I am feeling underneath this shirt,' Riddle said to Hermione in a calm, serene manner, like he was riding the train to Hogwarts.

And she knew what would happen next…

'Hold on to Ron!' she shouted at Harry.

Hermione let go of Ron's arm the moment the dragon entered Diagon Alley and spread its wings to fly off into the sky. She heard the familiar hissing sounds coming from behind her. She heard Ron screaming her name. But a dash of bright silver light surrounded Tom Riddle and Hermione Granger, and a second later they were gone, back on their way to 1945.


	7. Chapter 7

**Masters of Manipulation**

**Chapter Seven**

The schoolbag fell from her, still undamaged and whole, arm. No burns were visible. But how could there be? After all, it had not happened yet. Time was a funny thing, shifting and changing, going back and forth, attempting to correct the errors it perceived. And now, it had placed Hermione into the Slytherin girl's dormitory, all the way back in 1944. Without any knowledge of what happened to Harry, Ron and herself in 1997, because she had not gone there, yet. It would still take several months before she would travel through time and fly out of Gringotts on the back of a dragon with Harry, Ron and Tom Riddle. Right now, her biggest concerns were two massive Founders' books, and they were causing her enough problems as it was.

Anxiously, Hermione looked at the state of her belongings as she went on to check everything out. Not that her stuff was in extreme disarray or anything like it. But that was exactly what was troubling her. It was all tucked very neatly in its original place. The hair inside her calendar, the stray red sock between the sleeves of her equally red sweater, the immensely minuscule straw of thread she had put between her underwear, and so on. She growled and her face went dark when she noticed that even the folding of the pages in her fake journal was as it should be. And her journal was charmed to unfold the pages upon opening without leaving a single trace behind on how to refold them again.

Furthermore, the jinxes on her bookcase appeared uninterrupted. The hex surrounding her nightstand still seemed in working order. The sticking charms on her cabinet hadn't gone off. Even the personal restraining charm was intact. None of the damn curses had fired. You could name it, and it was there. Hermione rubbed her hands through her hair in frustration.

'And how, in Godric's name, did he fool the Founders' staircase to get into the girl's dorm?' she thought, while a very large number of inappropriate names to call Tom Marvolo Riddle came to mind.

She stood up straight, planted her hands upon her hips and sighed deeply as she angrily stared at all of her still 'ready for action' defences. She felt like thrashing them for their failure to, at least, do some harm to the obnoxious Heir. She had so much fun anticipating the look on his face after getting hit by one of the curses that would have left him with a 'shall we say' slightly permanent, more embarrassing appearance, instead of the boyish good looks he was born with. Unfortunately, no such joy was granted in reality.

If it hadn't been for the globe, she wouldn't have even known he had been there. The globe was something special. It was, like so many other globes, a map of the world and a lamp. But the lamp had very unusual attributes. It would alert her if spies, thieves, sneaks, or kindred spirits had been there. The lamp was also capable of making a record of events happening in her room. It was kind of a magical camera. Something she had designed herself. The camera was to keep an eye on her belongings when she wasn't around.

It was the only thing that had gone unnoticed as she had counted on upon creating it. Not only was it partly Muggle technology, so the stick-up, pure-blood Slytherins would not deem it a second glance. But, in a size this small, it was also not-yet-invented Muggle technology, so even the full-of-himself, half-blood prick would not know to check for an item of this kind. Hermione had designed the camera to switch on automatically if it detected movement around a pre-designated area. She had used a globe as a means to disguise the cam, since it was a sphere and would provide the camera with three-hundred-and-sixty degree eyesight.

So she was sure she had a pretty good record of Riddle snooping through her stuff, searching for the two Founders' books. She had no doubt it was him, even without checking the tape on the camera. She knew he was the only one anal enough to achieve these kinds of results with the amount of safeguards she had planted in the room.

And indeed her suspicions were confirmed when she used the charm to watch the events of that day in her dorm. The globe's map disappeared after she waved her wand and uttered the spell. The sphere became translucent, resembling the crystal balls used in Divination classes, and like a movie, it showed her exactly how Riddle was able to ditch and block every single one of her preset safeties. Her eyes went wide and she grunted defeated when she saw how he had, remarkably, made an exact copy of her journal without opening it, evading the folded paper trap she had set in between the pages.

'Too bad for him it was filled with complete and utter nonsense. It will be of no use to him whatsoever,' she amusingly thought.

But the smile quickly disappeared of her face as she watched the rest of Riddle's activities. He found every single one of her previous hiding places, which disturbed her dearly. And he noticed something in her trunk that clearly seemed enlightening to him from the pleased expression on his face. Unfortunately, she could not tell what it was, since her view was obstructed by the lid of the trunk.

She grinned, however, when he clearly got annoyed at being stuck to her cabinet for quite some time, before he was able to set himself free from it. And it took him an hour to undo the damage he sustained from violently disrupting the personal restraining charm. She took some pride in the fact that, at least, it had not been the walk-through she had deemed it to be when she first examined her room.

Alas for Tom and lucky for her, the books weren't in her dorm. They were both hiding beneath the false bottom of her schoolbag. The same bag, that was with her in class and in the library when he had broken into her room. She could tell he was beyond angry when his search turned up empty and he rearranged her things back in order. After he was finished, she expected him to leave immediately, since he already had spent a considerable amount of time in the dorm, and every minute spent, he was at risk for being apprehended there. But he just stood there, frozen, his face frowning, contemplating something, most likely his next act. The only movement he made was the impatient tapping his leg received from his wand.

Suddenly, a smile broke through and Hermione shivered at the sight of it. It was a harsh, cold, and calculating smile. And knowing perfectly well what the individual who wore that smile was capable of, it most definitely wasn't comforting to her. On the contrary, it was downright frightening. Anything he felt good about could never entail fun for her. She watched as he raised his wand, made some unidentifiable circular movement with it and uttered a curse, non-verbally.

'Oh, Merlin, damn…,' she thought, and closed her eyes for a second.

Suddenly very aware of her surroundings, she pulled out her wand and raised a shield around her, just to be on the safe side. She carefully eyed the space around her, and when she did not see any telltale signs of magic, she picked up her bag and slowly began backing out of the room, not touching anything, hoping that way she would not trigger whatever enchantment Riddle had set up in there. She almost made it.

Upon grabbing a hold of the doorknob behind her, she instantly knew she made a fatal mistake. The door would not open, and from a distance, a deep, low rumbling noise could be heard. She turned around and unconvincingly tried the Alohomora Charm, but as she had expected, to no effect. The door would not budge an inch. The noise became louder and louder, like an earthquake approaching its peak, until it filled the dorm room with a deafening strength. To her horror, the floor began to crumble beneath her. There was nowhere to turn to and she was beginning to panic. Fortunately, a flash of inspiration hit her. She pointed her wand at the nearest bed and yelled: 'Wingardium Leviosa'.

And with an amazingly athletic dive for someone who did not participate in any sporting activity, she managed to get herself and her schoolbag on top of the bed, before the floor vanished completely, leaving a dark and profound hole in its wake. Everything in the room, that wasn't nailed to the wall, had crashed downwards. Hermione looked down, straight into the seemingly bottomless abyss. Out of sheer curiosity, she let the ink-bottle she obtained out of her bag fall down into it. It took five, very long minutes before the crash of the bottle reached her ears.

'That foul, evil, rotten, good for nothing…' she grumbled.

A familiar rumbling noise interrupted her Tom Riddle bashing and she saw how the bricks of the floor began to realign themselves. After the floor was back in pristine condition, the furniture and all the other inanimate items emerged out of thin air and fell back into their original position like nothing had happened.

However, it did not escape her attention that Walburga's owl and Lucretia's cat were not among them. It was obvious that living things were not returning from the pit. She wondered about the well-being of the pets for a second, but the door opened and Walburga Black let out a furious scream at the sight of Hermione sitting on her levitated bed. 'Get off there! You filthy Mudblood! How dare you befoul my bed!?'

Hermione merely rolled her eyes at the familiar insult. She wondered how someone so nasty could have possibly got a son like Sirius. She hopped of the hovering bed before exiting the dorm room with her bag secured on her shoulder. She ignored Walburga's nasty glares and winked mischievously at Lucretia, who was giving her a puzzled stare. Lucretia stifled a laugh at Hermione's devious expression and made a fake sneeze into her handkerchief to hide and suppress her true feelings.

Back in the Slytherin common room, Hermione paused. She did not know where to go from here. Riddle knew the books weren't in her dorm, so he most likely had deduced she had them either with her at all times, or had hidden them somewhere else in the castle. He had already tried to trap her in that pit of his, and there was no doubt in her mind that he would not hesitate to force her to deliver the books to him. Either way, she could no longer afford to carry the books around with her. From what she had seen in the globe, Riddle would discover the false bottom in her bag in no time. She had to hide them somewhere safe. Somewhere he could not reach them: the Room of Requirement.

And so she left the Dungeons to go up to the Room on the seventh floor and hide the precious books. On her way towards it, she had carefully thought about the words she had to use to prevent exposure of the books, and she had decided upon the following sentence: 'I need a place to hide my books from Tom Marvolo Riddle.' And upon arriving in front of said Room, she walked past the place three times, thinking that sentence, until the door emerged. Relieved at the sheer sight of it, she turned and opened the door.

'Stupefy!'

The door was almost rendered shut by the impact of the spell that was meant for her, but hit the door instead. With a swift motion, the door flew back towards its frame, taking Hermione with it for a ride and smashing her into the doorframe, before nearly crushing her to death. She dropped her bag onto the floor of the Room of Requirement from the pain that emanated from her spine when it collided not so softly with the solid structure behind her, but she crashed into the corridor herself. The door started to move in the opposite direction again, opening it up wider and wider. Pushing herself up from the floor, she saw Riddle walking towards her with firm strides, his wand pointed towards her. Her eyes flew to the door that was, slowly, continuing to open further and further. An alarmed expression made its way to Tom Riddle's face as she reached out her arm to push the door into the other direction. Another red dash headed straight towards her, but she heard the distinctive _'thud'_ of a closing door, a mere fraction of a second before the stunner hit her and everything went black.

* * *

Hermione woke up on a cold, hard floor, face down. She had no idea how long she'd been out, but it must have been a significant amount of time, since her muscles felt extremely sore and numb from the cold. Her back was killing her from the impact it sustained with the doorframe, and her right arm felt like someone had tried to pull it out of its socket. She had to squeeze her eyes shut a couple of times before they were adjusted to the light in the room, that was just a bit too bright for her taste. Not that there was much to look at. All she saw was a blind wall and nothing further.

She groaned and pushed herself up, cursing at her right arm that refused to cooperate. Squatting on her knees, she managed to find herself in a somewhat seated position. So she turned to face the other side of the room. Only to find out that side, unfortunately, wasn't as empty as the one she faced a moment ago. In a rather comfortable looking armchair sat Tom Riddle calmly. One of his legs was slouched over the arm-rest of the chair, while he was twirling his wand in his left hand. His eyes were locked on the bare wall to his right, as if that was far more interesting than the girl kneeling on the floor before him.

Hermione quickly decided, that in front of present company, this most definitely wasn't a posture she cared to be in, and she stumbled onto her feet, while scanning the room left and right. Besides Riddle in his chair, there wasn't a single thing to be seen. She had no notion as to what was emanating that blasted, blinding light, since there were no lamps hanging anywhere and no windows to be found in the otherwise blank walls.

Hermione also noticed that Riddle was strategically positioned between her and the only exit of the room. Not that she thought she could have made it to a door anyway, since he had a wand and she was sure he wasn't stupid enough not to have taken hers to begin with. 'No harm in checking that though,' she thought and her hand went to the pocket in her skirt.

She heard the snort coming a mile away and she replied with an angry frown in his direction, which only enhanced his amusement further. His face now showed a degrading, mocking expression in combination with the typical Slytherin smirk and that was basically enough to send her over the edge.

'Why don't you just stop with your stupid, annoying games and get to the point. What the hell do you want?' she spat at him.

His wand stopped twirling in midair and he merely raised his eyebrows at Hermione's outburst. For a brief moment, the room was eerily silent.

'If you have to ask, Evans, then I would think you would be the one to qualify for the title stupid,' he replied, ever so quietly.

It was like time stood still. Frozen. They simply stared at each other, weighing the balance of the situation. Hermione did not appreciate the outcome of the scales so far, and she broke the silence again by enquiring where she was.

Tom responded calmly. 'The Room of Requirement. I must say, it is very accommodating of you, to so conveniently make yourself available in front of another suitable place, after you cleverly spoilt my other plan by … levitating a bed, I believe.'

His face lit up in delight and he gave her a broad smile, as if to show his appreciation of her cunning. The smile never reached his eyes though.

'This room, however, does have its advantages, Hermione. It's a lot easier for me to get in and out of unnoticed. It's also much more comfortable.' And he patted on the chair with his hand.

'It's quite soundproof as well. No disturbances, as I prefer it.'

He paused for a little while to emphasise on the underlying threat, before continuing his speech in the same soft voice and in the same calm demeanour.

'And last, but certainly not least, your little show-and-tell with the door a few hours ago, proved the books are in your schoolbag, and therefore they are inside some manifestation of this very room. So … here we are, Miss Evans. Roomies.'

And he started twirling his wand again, while eyeing her intently.

'Care to save us both the trouble and enlighten me on the, no doubt, brilliantly constructed phrase you used to open this room and hide those books from me?'

The silence that fell after those pleasantly spoken words was so thick you could put a knife in it. He slowly rose out of his chair and began to advance towards her.

'Or…'

His tone of voice changed dramatically in that last word, and he menacingly continued his speech. It was now devoid of any kind of comforting emotion.

'Do I have to do something unpleasant?'

Hermione held her breath as he pushed his wand into her sternum to back up his threat, and unwillingly she took a step backwards. Her eyes flittered from left to right, trying desperately to find a way out, a solution to her dilemma that would not involve handing Riddle those two volumes. She knew that in order to retrieve those books from the Room, they would both have to vacate this one, which meant stepping out into the corridor where there might be others passing by, which might give her a window of opportunity. But she quickly realised she was kidding herself. He did not have to keep her conscious in order for her to exit, or he could use the Imperius Curse. He had way too many options to make sure she would not interfere. Her mind was working overtime, but the answers she came up with were empty. She decided on replying with a question of her own.

'How do I know that you won't do anything to me after you obtain those books?'

'There are no certainties in life, Hermione Evans. The only one you have here is that you will suffer sincerely if I do not acquire an answer to my question within the next minute or so. And I guess it's only fair to remind you, that it is Saturday night, and therefore, I have an entire day at my disposal to secure the information from you before classes resume. I think it will be prudent for you to assume that I will make effective use of every minute; speaking of which, I believe you just ran out of time… Perhaps a little demonstration is in order...'

His eyes flashed red for a second and Hermione paled at the sight of it. She just stood there, speechless, unable to move, like she was nailed to the floor, but not for long. She saw the distinctive wand-movement again and knew what was going to happen before the words were spoken.

'Crucio.'

Pain, beyond belief, beyond imagination, flared through her body. Nothing had prepared her for this. Not even Harry's descriptions of the sensation did it justice. She fell to the floor, writhing and screaming. Her nerves felt like an icy fire ran through them. Her heart pounded so severely she thought it would jump out of her chest. Her lungs felt as if they were collapsing. It felt like all her internal organs were trying to tear themselves apart. Her head seemed like knifes were punched into it from all sides, and she could think nothing else besides: 'Make it stop. Somebody please end this. Someone kill me.'

After what seemed like forever, but in reality only lasted a couple of seconds, the pain ended. He lifted the curse. She was panting heavily now, making no attempt to stand up, and Lord Voldemort circled around her. There was no mistaking his identity. No room to pretend the handsome man might simply be a misguided, suffering, hurt, little boy, who could be shown the light and returned to the path of righteousness.

'Just a little teaser,' Voldemort said tauntingly. 'You don't want me to do that again, do you, Hermione?'

She quickly shook her head in fright, saving all the precious time she had for breathing instead of speech. She felt like she needed to breathe in all the air in the room before her lungs would ever function properly again.

'Then answer me!' Voldemort snarled.

'N-no...no,' she stuttered.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. Though, she did not notice it, because she was still crouched up on the floor.

'Not that question, woman,' Voldemort annoyingly retorted. 'What did you ask the Room to become? Tell me now!'

Hermione mumbled the sentence she used to him.

Voldemort tilted his head. 'I didn't quite get that. Perhaps a little more pain…'

'No, please!' Hermione breathed out those words like her life depended on it.

Voldemort's mouth curled up into a smile, he pointed his wand directly at her and softly said: 'Then I suggest you answer me loud and clear, not to mention quickly, or prepare yourself for another dose of pain. And I promise you… this time… it will last longer.'

'I told the Room I needed to hide my books from you,' Hermione said, more forceful now, even though her breathing was still erratic.

'You used my name in that sentence?' Voldemort enquired.

'Yes,' Hermione answered, feeling thoroughly defeated.

'That could become … problematic.'

He stepped away from her and Hermione heard the chair creak when he sat back down in it. She looked up slightly to see a doubtful, frowned expression on his face. She made it to a seating position without toppling over and she remained silent. Afraid it would all start over again, if she drew attention to herself, and to the fact that she was the one who made it a problematic issue in the first place. She wished she wasn't so damned alone. She wished Harry and Ron were here to help her.

'I can't do this without you guys,' Hermione thought.

And all of the sudden, she heard a little voice inside her head, a voice that sounded an awful lot like Harry. 'You're not, you know, defeated.'

'What?' she asked the voice.

'You're still alive, aren't you? Still here to fight another day,' Harry continued.

'But I told him. You never would have,' Hermione retorted.

'I would have.' Ron's voice sounded reassuring. 'We're not all nutty heroes like Harry.'

'Well, this nutty hero, as you so complimentary put it, Ron, might have told him too.'

Harry's voice pissed Hermione off, since he was now, obviously, lying to her. And she responded angrily: 'No, you wouldn't have. You would have said nothing. He tortured you too, Harry. I remember. There is no need to sugar-coat it for me. I don't have your strength. I am weak.'

Now, it was Harry's turn to get upset. 'You. Are. Not. Weak. Now, you listen to me, Hermione. Sure he tortured me, because I lived. It was never with the intent to get answers. It was his sick, twisted idea of pleasure. I had nothing to offer, nothing to make it stop. Who knows, if I would have...'

Hermione planned to argue with the little Harry voice inside her head, but it continued. 'Besides, it's not like you told him something useful, right?'

She thought about that.

'Yeah,' said the little Ron voice triumphantly in her head. 'You heard the sicko say it himself, problematic. Ha! More like impossible if you ask me.' And she could just see Ron beaming at her, a proud expression on his face.

'Nothing is impossible, Ronald.' But her reply lacked the determination to make it sound very convincing.

' _Get up.'_

Harry was laughing. 'You have asked the Room of Requirement to hide the books from Riddle. No matter from what direction you look at the problem, the Room will not provide the books to him. Am I right or am I right?'

'Potter, I think that analysis will cost you ten points from Gryffindor for being right all the time,' Ron stated in an eerie likeness to Snape.

Harry snorted at Ron. 'Geez, Professor, only ten? Are you feeling ill today?'

Now, they were all snickering inside her head.

' _Evans, I told you to stand up.'_

She did not hear the irritated voice over the very loud laughing inside her head.

' _EVANS!'_

A kick against her leg pulled her out of her reverie. Shocked, she looked up to see Riddle had got out of his chair and was now towering over her, watching her with a frown on his face. Upon seeing he finally had got her attention, the next command spat out of his mouth. 'Get up and follow me.'

And he turned around swiftly, not waiting for her reply, and walked to the door.

'He couldn't possibly have…,' Hermione thought anxiously, while she got to her feet. She tried hard to think of a way around her carefully phrased words, but nothing came to mind. 'Still, he was, uh..., is the most brilliant student that was... is here, according to Dumbledore. He might have found some way to retrieve those books.'

Hermione had found out a long time ago, during her DA days, that it was always important to be specific in your request of the Room of Requirement. The more you were able to specify, the better the Room became accustomed to your needs, which in her case meant the lesser the chance was for Riddle to get his hands on the books. She was pretty certain not even someone else could enter the Room with the intent to obtain the books for Tom Riddle right now. But like she had previously told Ron, there was no such thing as a total impossibility. It was just improbable. Highly unlikely.

She had gained up to him, so he raised his wand at the door. Another nonverbal spell flew of his wand and the door became transparent. The corridor behind it was instantly illuminated with the same, too bright light that disturbed her eyesight so much in this room. Upon seeing the corridor was unoccupied, Riddle opened the door.

'Ladies first.'

And he took a step back to let her pass. Hermione was rather suspicious about this new-found gentleman demeanour, but she started to move just the same, only to feel him stop her and push his wand at the back of her neck, before she made it to the corridor.

'Any funny business, Evans, and mark my words, you will pay dearly,' he whispered softly into her ear. 'Comply, and you can go after I am done. Now, move!'

And he pushed her into the corridor. He closed the Room of Requirement's door behind him and moved around to face her, his wand still raised.

'Open it.'

Hermione was flabbergasted. 'What?' she retorted rather stupidly.

'Go get your bag,' he ordered at seeing her surprised expression.

For a second, Hermione wondered if the spirit of Crabbe or Goyle had taken over his body and were making the rather dumbfounded request. 'Surely, he should realise that will never work,' she thought.

Her astonished face must have revealed her thoughts, because he smirked, waved his hand in the direction of the hidden door, and said: 'Humour me.'

Hermione made a face.

'And speak out loud,' he added warningly.

Hermione turned around to walk three times past the invisible door. She shook her head, demonstrating her disbelief over this much nonsense. 'I need the place to retrieve my schoolbag from,' she said mockingly.

After three consecutive turns, a door appeared in the wall. Hermione opened it and it was as she expected. There was nothing there. Clearly, the Room of Requirement identified her as being sent by Tom Riddle, so he could obtain Godric's and Salazar's books. Meaning it was in no way inclined to hand over the bag to her either.

'Just as I thought, problematic.' She heard the quietly spoken words right over her left shoulder, his breath brushed her hair. 'Clever though, very clever.'

His restraint vanished and he reached over her shoulder to smash the door shut. Hermione stirred at the sudden act of violence, fear creeping up inside her stomach. Her arm was suddenly grabbed harshly and he swung her back against the wall. Upon impact she noticed his eyes were flashing red again.

'Cru..'

'Expelliarmus!'

The shout came from across the corridor. Hermione swung her head around to see her future professor, Minerva McGonagall, standing in the corridor, catching Tom's wand that flew right into her hand. Tom immediately pulled out Hermione's wand from his back pocket. Minerva looked at it with a frown on her face and gave Hermione a worried glance.

'What in Godric's name is going on here?' Minerva demanded to know.

'It's just a student illegally wandering around after curfew. I was just about to take her to Professor Slughorn,' Tom answered pleasantly.

Minerva noticed the infuriated look Hermione gave Tom and thoughtfully said: 'I don't recall that you had to patrol the corridors tonight, Tom. I'll take it from here.'

'I think I can handle someone in my own House, McGonagall. It really is none of your business,' Tom stated with authority in his voice.

However, Minerva now drew herself up to her full height, and matching Tom's authority, she stated: 'This…' And she pointed towards her Head Girl badge as she moved closer. '…says it is my business, Riddle. Now, put that wand down and give it back to her.'

Riddle snorted.

'Or what?' he retorted condescendingly. 'Planning to show off some of those pathetic Gryffindor heroics to Hermione? Going to throw a Quaffle at me? Perhaps bore me to tears with your pitiful purring?'

Minerva's cheeks flushed red at the insults and she took Riddle's wand in both hands. 'How about I break this?'

Hermione gasped, and was positively delighted with Minerva's devious solution, so the comment slipped from her lips. 'Now that would be fitting,' Hermione stated, and she was laughing out loud.

Tom promptly turned his head towards her, eyeing her warningly. Minerva gave her a big smile, before returning her attention back to Tom, who was still staring at Hermione intently.

'Riddle?' Minerva asked, still holding onto both ends of his wand, but he did not respond.

'We are not done here, Evans. I'll be seeing you,' said Tom menacingly.

He pushed her wand back in her hand. And for a tense moment, their eye contact remained, when they stood so close, she could practically feel him breathe. But then, he strode off to Minerva, snatched his wand from her fingers, and walked out of the corridor. The two girls watched him leave.

'Such a fine catch,' Minerva said, dryly. 'I pity the girl he plans to marry.'

The thought of Lord Voldemort with a house, a wife, a dog, and two children, behind the traditional white picket fence was a bit too much for Hermione's restraint to handle, and she roared with laughter again. In her mind, she saw images of him and his wife at the dinner table, where they would talk about how his day went, where he would complain about his stupid Death Eaters, who could not get the job done. She knew partly her laughter was caused by her nerves seeking an outlet for the tension and the fear she had endured, because it wasn't really that funny. However, Minerva got infected by Hermione's contagious roaring, and both girls laughed out loud. After a while, they calmed down and Hermione thanked Minerva greatly for her intervention, upon which Minerva eyed her thoughtfully.

'What is really bothering you, Hermione? This isn't about Riddle wanting the books anymore, is it? Because, I haven't seen you get upset about that before.'

Hermione merely looked at her.

'Is this because of what I did the other day? I've noticed you've been acting strange ever since I handed you those books. I thought I already promised you I would not try to take them from Riddle again.'

Hermione nodded. 'I know you did.'

'So it really is something else, isn't it? You found out something else! Something important. Information!' Minerva held her breath at her own conclusion. 'You found some book in Godric's Room that can help us! Tell me, what did you find?' And she eyed Hermione with clear excitement in her face.

'I can't. It's complicated.'

'Everything is complicated. You don't have to do this alone, Hermione. I'm here to help. We're in this mess together, remember?'

Hermione stared at Minerva when she heard the words she, herself, had once used to persuade Harry to trust her and Ron with what was troubling his mind. _'We're all in this together.'_

She looked up and down the corridor. 'Not here,' she decided. 'Let's go to Godric's Room. We won't be disturbed in there.'

'But what about the books?' Minerva eyes darted towards the Room of Requirement, so Hermione knew she had guessed correctly that they were in there.

'They'll be safe inside the Room of Requirement for now. Riddle can't get in there, and I can't take Salazar's book into that room Godric's book created. It's almost like it doesn't want to go there. Besides, I have a feeling that if I pull those books from the Room of Requirement, Riddle will be back here somehow. So let's just go, and I'll tell you what I found.'

After Hermione told Minerva all about Helga's journal and the mission she had accepted, Minerva looked out the window. Her hand was stroking her chin. She was contemplating on something. Suddenly, she turned. 'We are going to need help with this,' said Minerva decisively.

'No,' Hermione said, utterly shocked at the concept of getting more people at risk.

'Yes,' Minerva said thoughtfully. 'We do need to tell some more people. We're going to need help with this search. He has got almost the entire House of Slytherin as backup, and I'm sure he will use his Mister Wonderful Routine to get help from students in other Houses as well. I saw him yesterday charming that Macmillan girl, and she is in Hufflepuff.'

'There is a Quidditch Match coming up between Hufflepuff and Slytherin,' Hermione dully said. 'I overheard Mulciber complaining to Riddle about Macmillan's skills on a broom. He probably just wants to take out the Hufflepuff seeker.'

'Since when does Riddle care about Quidditch?' Minerva asked, sounding scornful at the mere notion that there were actually people out there who did not care about her favourite sport.

'He cares about winning,' Hermione retorted.

'But are you sure it's that? Can you honestly say that you're one-hundred percent certain that Riddle is not aware there are two more volumes to obtain? And that Helga's book is not the reason why he suddenly developed an interest in Eve? You are convinced it's because of her seeker abilities? I can tell you that Eve Macmillan comes from a long, long line of pure-blood wizards and witches, who all went to Hufflepuff. They could easily be related to Helga Hufflepuff. It would not surprise me. It would explain the family's high-and-mighty attitude.'

Minerva seemed to be lost in deep thought after her last remark and Hermione knew she could not answer Minerva's question with certainty. There was no way to be certain whether Riddle knew, but still, Hermione thought the timing between Mulciber's complaining and Riddle developing an interest in Macmillan was way too convenient to be about something else than assuring a victory for his House.

'We need all the help we can get,' Minerva stated in a bossy tone of voice that Hermione found incredibly annoying. 'What about Augusta Longbottom? Do you know whether she is trustworthy in your time? She had a crush on Riddle…'

Hermione interrupted Minerva's questioning of character in regards to Neville's grandmother, and reassured her that Augusta was firmly opposing Lord Voldemort in her day and age, but that they could not involve her. Hermione was worried something might happen that would prevent Neville from ever being born.

'Too bad Ian Potter left school last year, otherwise I would have asked him to help us,' Minerva continued with a frown on her face.

'No, we can't endanger more people.' Hermione began, shocked at hearing the mere mention of any of Harry's relatives in relationship to this dangerous enterprise.

But Minerva interrupted her. 'What about Pomona Sprout from Hufflepuff? And Ernest Lovegood? He is in Ravenclaw. We need backup from every House if we're going to make this work. You're already in Slytherin, so you can keep an eye on things there, and I suppose we could ask Rubeus as well. He has much more freedom to move around the grounds than any of us. And there is definitely no love between him and Riddle.'

Minerva was cleaning her glasses with her wand, while waiting for Hermione to respond to the names she mentioned.

'They're all fine people, none of them follow the Dark Lord, but we can't tell them, the time-line…' Hermione's answer got interrupted abruptly.

'Screw the time-line… If Riddle obtains all those books, he won't waste a single moment before using them and you know it. ' _We_ ,' and Minerva was emphasising on that word in clear understanding that Hermione was thinking " _I_ " instead. ' _We_ need to stop him. _We_ need to be the first to obtain those books, which means _we_ need help. _We_ won't have to tell them everything, but _we_ need help.'

She knew Minerva was right, but she was very reluctant to admit it to herself. _She_ needed help. _They_ needed help. She finally realised how Harry had felt all those years, when she and Ron were coming along with him and risked their life to assist him. It was not a pleasant feeling. 'I'll apologise to him for everything I said, when I get back,' Hermione thought, before answering Minerva.

'Alright, but only the people you just mentioned, and not a single one more,' she stated.

'So that's Rubeus Hagrid, Pomona Sprout, Augusta Longbottom and Ernest Lovegood,' Minerva recalled.

Hermione agreed and they set up a meeting for next weekend in the Room of Requirement. It reminded Hermione a lot of the Dumbledore's Army meetings she had in the exact same room only two years ago. Well, two years of her lifetime.


	8. Chapter 8

**Masters of Manipulation**

**Chapter eight**

Hermione paced out of the classroom as fast as she could. Today, her Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson had been utterly aggravating. First, there was Tom Riddle; second, she didn't have her DADA-book, because they were tucked away in her schoolbag, which was still inside the Room of Requirement; third, a certain Tom Riddle; fourth, there was Professor Galatea Merrythought, taking away points on her behalf and lecturing her for not handing in her essay, which was finished, but it was also in her schoolbag in said Room; fifth, had she mentioned Tom Riddle already? Because she really felt that he was an issue not able to be covered only once.

Really, she had never met anyone so infuriating. Whenever they had classes together, which was practically all the time, since their subjects did not deviate much, he would be there with that smug, annoying, arrogant, Know-It-All attitude. He always knew all the answers when called upon. Sometimes, she suspected him for having swallowed an encyclopedia when he was little, and that he was reciting from the volume. But not only was the bloke a walking, talking textbook, he also was constantly adding stuff he felt was mistaken or misinterpreted. And then everybody else would marvel and act impressed, while the professors would give him beaming and encouraging smiles, which he _so_ did not deserve.

And whenever she had an answer to a question, he would have something to add or just look at her with those mocking dark eyes of his that clearly meant he had something to add, but thought it would be best not to do so in front of said professors. Because it would, no doubt, ruin his I-Am-The-Most-Wonderful-Person-In-The-World routine.

Hermione growled. 'Can I be of assistance, Professor?' she mimicked mocking. 'I would be happy to do so, Professor. It is an honour to be of service, Professor. Please allow me to suck up and charm the pants off your stupid ignorant arse, Professor.'

If she had to listen to one more line of Riddle's, she knew she was going to explode.

And she hadn't even thought of the assignments they had to perform. Because whenever she was finished with whatever the professors had assigned them all to do, he would be sitting there, launched backward in his seat, balancing his chair on the two back legs, like he was done ages ago and it was all too easy and utterly boring.

And then, when he would notice she had finished also, he would wink at her. An encouraging wink that said 'I knew you could do it', which she did NOT need from him. Or a degrading wink that beheld something more in the line of 'finally finished, Mudblood; I'm surprised the scroll detected your birth with that kind of slow magical ability'. Well, whichever bloody wink it was, she had felt the distinct need to pound it off his _I-Am-Way-Too-Bright-To-Be-In-Classes-With-The-Common-People_ face.

No, suddenly not being at the top of the class did not agree with Hermione Jean Granger very well. That she had been equally infuriating to others in her previous six years of education did not occur to her, nor did the fact that one always finds those things most annoying in others whenever one recognises sides of themselves that are less likeable.

So Hermione was not enjoying classes at all this morning. And she was now facing Professor Slughorn, who, fortunately for him, didn't make a fuss at all, because she was about ready to hex the first person that would aggravate her, regardless of the consequences. But Slughorn was most accommodating to her, probably because she was a Slytherin and most likely since she was the latest addition to his realm of influence, being the top-notch student she was. Sometimes being a Slug Club member could be convenient.

The stubby Professor simply handed her a school copy of Advanced Potion-Making by Libatius Borage with a beaming smile, while his fingers caressed his gingery-blond moustache. 'Never mind, never mind, if you knew how many times I misplaced my belongings at school…' And he gingerly stared at the ceiling for what seemed to be a fond memory, because his smile increased and his eyes glinted. He patted her on the back reassuringly, before turning and walking back to his desk in front of the classroom. 'Oh, young people…' Slughorn said without finishing the thought.

Hermione was shocked at what she thought Professor Slughorn was assuming her to have done, and to add to that she was now stuck with the not so pretty visual in her mind of Slughorn getting some. Needless to say Hermione was very glad she gave up a part of her break to be the first inside the Potions Class Dungeon, because she was sure she would never have heard the end of it if the other students had overheard Slughorn's presumption. Quickly, she went towards the cabinet at the end of the dungeon that hosted spare supplies. She took out a tin cauldron that seemed in order, though it had a dent in it. And she found a mortar and a pestle, but no knifes and no scales.

'I'll just have to lend those,' Hermione thought, sighing. She placed the stuff onto her table when the rest of the students came in, and she flopped down into her chair.

Minerva stopped by and handed her a copy of Magical Schools throughout the Ages. She winked and whispered: 'I see you're still in one piece. How is Riddle doing?'

Hermione snorted and whispered back: 'I'm sure he's being his usual wonderful self. Thanks for the book.'

'Don't mention it.'

They had discussed Hogwarts: A History last night when they were through debating Time-Issues. And as it turned out, Hogwarts: A History was also a favourite book of Minerva's, and Hermione had mentioned that she had been searching to get a hold of this book that contained information on the history of other Magical Schools. When Minerva mentioned she had a copy of it, and if Hermione was interested, she was more than welcome to lend it from her, Hermione had to sustain her desire from hugging her crazy. Having the book caused Hermione to immediately browse the pages, check the index, and get a feel of what the book was all about.

Because she was so wrapped up in her reading, she did not notice what happened after Minerva moved on to sit at her table in the Gryffindor row. Minerva and Hermione had kept their friendship somewhat a secret, and they had been quite successful at it. So the eyebrows of Minerva's friend were raised slightly at her for having conversed with a Slytherin in a friendly tone. And not only were the Gryffindors looking abashed, the Slytherins that witnessed the more than polite exchange between Hermione and the Gryffindor Head Girl were even more bewildered. That is, with the exception of one Slytherin. His face was not confused at all. His face predicted something quite different and it was not nearly as benign as the other ones. He smashed his bag onto the table next to her, making her substitute mortar fall to the ground, and pulled up a chair.

Hermione looked up at him questionably. 'Nowhere else to sit, Riddle?'

'Not today, no,' he answered shortly, before pulling his book and Potions Supplies out of his bag.

Hermione merely shook her head and picked up her mortar, determined not to let him get to her. The ironic statement that came out of his mouth next was utter proof he was only sitting beside her to be an annoying snake. 'Interesting looking cauldron you have there. New?'

Remembering her firm and earlier set determination to not let him get to her, Hermione replied in an equally ironic tone of voice by saying: 'Yes, it arrived this morning. The owl dropped it though. See?'

And she pushed the cauldron under his noise and pointed at the dent in it. Hermione, purely by accident, of course, hit all his belongings, pushing them off the table, and when they tumbled to the floor, they continued to roll in every direction. Hermione completely ignored the mess she created, and in an exited, upbeat tone, she began to chatter about the required size of cauldron bottoms. She was the only one who had always been too polite to snap at Percy, so she had become well versed in the topic. And nothing pleased her more than finally being able to bore someone else to death with the utterly dull subject.

Riddle, however, did not respond, as she expected. Just like her, he ignored his things scattering around the dungeon floor, but he also turned to face her, and adjusted himself to appear intensely interested in her stupid cauldron story. He leaned slightly towards her, his arm was stationed on the desk behind her, he looked straight into her eyes and nodded ever so often at her rambling with a polite, encouraging smile on his face. He was the poster boy for an open listener's attitude. She could hardly hide her dismay when he started asking questions that were actual proof he had not only listened, but also remembered everything she had said on the subject. She started answering them, but halfway through the answers, she suddenly realised that she was walking on thin ice here, since she had no concept about the requirements of cauldrons in the nineteen forties.

'And why is he pretending to be interested at all?' she thought angrily. 'It's not like it is a jolly good time to hear about the debate between 5 or 6 millimetres.'

She was saved by Slughorn. 'Miss Evans, what a delightful topic! Not many people are aware of the importance of details in Potions making; something as small as an inadequate cauldron bottom can be responsible for disasters. I am sure we can continue this conversation at the next Slug Club meeting.'

'What?' Hermione thought stunned. 'Great, now I'm stuck with conversing about this dull subject again.'

Riddle, who was still sitting turned towards her, was giving her an ironic smile that pretty much meant 'he who digs a pit for another…'

And so she hit him on the arm, hard.

'Ouch,' he said, rubbing his arm and pulling up a hurt face, 'what was that for?'

'Yeah, like he didn't know,' Hermione thought and turned her attention back to Slughorn.

'For today, we are going to focus on the intricate brewing of Veritaserum.'

Slughorn walked back towards the charcoal board and with a wave of his wand, the ingredients and instructions on how to create the potion appeared.

'The ingredients are in the cupboard. I expect that it will take several lessons before we are finished far enough with this potion that some of you might let it simmer over the next full moon-cycle. Therefore, you are all required to store it at the end of each lesson. Considering the nature of this potion, it is not allowed to leave this classroom, as you all know it's prohibited to own Veritaserum by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.'

Tom let out a soft snort there, which made Hermione consider getting a flask to drink from as Moody always did. 'Constant vigilance.'

'So let's see who will be able to complete this task,' Slughorn cheerfully said. He gave Hermione and Tom a glance that clearly meant he had every confidence in their abilities to create this potion and sat down at his desk, opening a magazine of some kind.

Hermione got up to get the ingredients, when she noticed that somehow all of Riddle's belongings had made it back to his table, even though he had not moved an inch or taken out his wand to summon them. She stared at it a bit too long, because he realised she was watching and she saw him snickering at her astonishment.

'Show off,' she grunted.

At the end of the lesson, Hermione had not proceeded as far as she normally would have. The lack of her own equipment was holding her up, even though Tom, surprisingly, did lend her his knife and scales. It still meant she had to wait until he was finished with them, which all of a sudden took him a tremendous amount of time. At some point, Hermione had refrained from her urge to take his knife and chop up all of the ingredients herself. She did not doubt that might be the reason for his slow progress, so she counted to ten and tried not to tap her fingers.

'I definitely need to get my schoolbag back,' she thought, frustrated.

It was then that she realised Riddle had two hours of Divination after the lunch break, while she went to Care of Magical Creatures. It was the only class they did not have in common. It would be a perfect opportunity to sneak back into the Room of Requirement. All went as planned. She went to the grounds for her lesson and after half an hour, she faked an illness and was excused from class. She made it to the Room of Requirement without being spotted and, more importantly, without running into Mr Evil. She had expected him to show, but apparently, he took Divination serious enough not to skip it.

'Of course he would,' she snorted. She was, after all, talking about the person who hanged his fate at a prophecy made by Sybill Trelawney, the Sherry Queen. 'He really needs to get his head examined,' she thought upon entering the Room.

It was the first time she was able to look at the Room as she had summoned it in order to protect the books from Riddle. It did not appear big, and it somewhat resembled a small library, though it only contained empty shelves with dust and empty spider webs. There were no books in sight. There were several study tables in it, and all had a couple of chairs around them. The best way to describe it was that it appeared like an abandoned library. Its glory days long forgotten.

Hermione picked up her schoolbag with sheer relief of having her own stuff back. She ruffled through it to get the two Founder's volumes out, and planted them on the table, making the dust fly up in the air, tickling her sinuses. She sneezed, but then she hesitated to get her bag again. She had been planning to leave the Room immediately once she had got her things, but seeing the two books lay there side by side, she couldn't just leave. She had to check them out. It was important, after all. Her hand went towards Eternity in Time, but right before she touched it, she withdrew her hand and eyed the book with clear distaste, and got a bit worried about the effects of the Blood-Binding Charm she was now subjected to.

'I know I can't read that one; I know I now should be able to read Infinity in Space, and still my hand darts towards Slytherin's book. There is definitely something wrong with that picture. I should do some research on those charms later on,' she decided.

So she grabbed Godric's work to open it. Excitedly, she noticed that the pages were no longer blank, but they had written text in them, and she started reading. Godric Gryffindor had a contagious way of writing, and the book immediately drew up all her attention, which was a shame, because if she hadn't been so preoccupied, she might have noticed that Salazar's little masterpiece had glowed for a second.

'Wow, Evans, I see you've finally found a way to bring out the text hidden underneath.'

Tom Riddle was slightly leaning over her right shoulder checking out the page she had been reading. Hermione sighed, utterly annoyed. Someday this stupid Ping-Pong match had to end. She grabbed both books in anger and held them out to him. Tom did not accept the volumes though, but he merely walked around the table and took a seat across from her. He was watching her with clear amusement in his eyes.

'What? Not happy to see me? I'm crushed, devastated. You are breaking my heart, Evans.'

Hermione sighed and shook her head in disbelief. 'Great,' she thought, 'he's in one of those moods.'

She dumped the books back on the table and the action caused Riddle to make disapproving clicking noises with his tongue at her nonchalant handling of the two valuable works on the table.

'I really, really don't have time for these silly games of yours, Riddle,' Hermione stated, as she pushed the two books towards him. 'I still have an essay to write for Carefoch, so just take the damn books and leave.'

He merely raised his eyebrows. 'Just take them? What? No fireworks, no duelling, no witty repartee, no Muggle punching? How utterly boring of you, Evans.'

'How boring do I need to get for you to leave?' Hermione asked, petulant, but before he could respond, she suddenly remembered where she was. 'How did you get in here?'

Riddle frowned. 'Truthfully?'

'No, when I ask something, I always want to be lied to,' Hermione sneered. She saw the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. 'Riddle,' she added warningly.

'Frankly, I don't know. I was in the Divination classroom, when I suddenly felt the urge to come here. And look,' he relaxed backwards in his chair, holding his arms out wide to stress the point, 'here I am.'

Hermione saw the sheer amusement spread over his face, but she also noticed the slight sign of curiosity that flew through it. It was like he was looking for her to confirm something. She shook the thought from her mind. She really was not interested in Riddle's emotional state.

'If you don't want to tell me how you opened the door, feel free to say so, Riddle. Stop wasting my time with stupid stories about having urges to leave Divination, because anyone with half a brain would have the urge to leave such a useless subject anyway.'

'Hmmm… as much as I would love to start a debate with you about the intrinsic value of Divination...' Hermione let out a significant, loud snort at Riddle's statement here, and he eyed her for a second before continuing: 'I do feel obliged to inform you that it was as I said. I did not come here to obtain the books. I was merely walking this corridor, searching for you.'

'Oh and why were you searching for me?' Hermione asked, rolling her eyes.

'I have no idea,' Riddle said bluntly. 'I just knew I had to come here. And I am sure I did not ask the Room for anything, but the door appeared and I got curious, so I opened it, and there you were…'

'And you know exactly what I'm talking about, don't you?' Tom added softly, frowning as he eyed Hermione's now pale face.

His relaxed posture shifted immediately into action and he leaned in forward across the table, his elbows resting on the wood and his hands folded in front of him, eyeing Hermione with great interest. 'You've had these urges too, haven't you, Evans? A sudden need to go somewhere without a clear idea why you desire to be there in the first place. And let me guess, whenever you got to the place you needed to go to without knowing why, I would be there.'

Hermione was about to deny the statement, when Riddle leaned backwards and smugly said: 'Too late, your emotions already betrayed you. You are a terrible liar, Hermione Evans.'

He picked up Infinity in Space, and tossed it from one hand to the other, back and forth. He was definitely contemplating on something now. Hermione was certain of it. 'Don't you have somewhere else to be?' she asked, somewhat uncertain whether she actually wanted him to leave right now.

'You really, really don't want me to leave,' Tom said casually. He opened the volume of Godric Gryffindor and glanced at the written sentences in it, after which he gave her a calculated stare, before closing the book again and putting it back on the table. 'Do you know how annoying it is, Hermione, when you want to read something and all you can get to is half, maybe one whole page, if you're lucky?' Riddle asked, friendly.

And it struck Hermione that he was, suddenly, addressing her on a first name basis, but he did not wait for an answer and continued his speech, before she could say something about it.

'I do. You see, every time I open up this wonderful piece of Slytherin's writings and start reading, within minutes you seem to appear out of thin air and nick the book from me.'

Hermione could not help but grin at the obvious annoyed tone in which that statement was made. At least now she knew for certain she wasn't alone in being upset for not being able to handle the books without getting company. Riddle had the same problems too. She had been expecting it, but it was always nice to get confirmation on your suspicions. She noticed he was still staring straight at her. It was always unnerving her a bit when he did that, just a bit though, not a whole lot, or so she kept telling herself.

'But you know what is even stranger, Hermione? The first week after you arrived here, I obtained the book from you and I was able to go through a large number of pages from it without a single disturbance. So I started wondering. What changed?'

Another calculated glance was thrown in her direction.

'And then I realised that every time I had been able to read more than one page of this, you had been in the vicinity of the book. During Arithmancy class, when I sat right behind you. During Ancient Runes, when you were sitting in the row next to mine. Outside on the lawn, where you and your dear friend Minerva,' he spat out the name of the Head Girl with venom, 'were chatting. And every time I have been disturbed in my reading was when I was all alone with the book, until, of course, you would pop up. See, there is a simple correlation between all these events, namely you, or rather your presence, and my ability to read this book. So tell me, how far along have you managed to read in Infinity in Space before I arrived? I doubt it has been more than a single page, right?'

He was definitely waiting for an answer this time.

'Why is it your business, Riddle, how much I am able to read from these books?' Hermione said, feeling not a single bit inclined to start sharing information like he had just done with her. Though she had to admit she was appreciative of him being this forthcoming, it certainly cleared up a few mysteries, even if it did create some new ones in its place. And when he did not respond to her question, she added: 'I don't recall us being friends. Why should I tell you anything?'

Riddle was sizing her up. 'Because, Hermione,' he smoothly said, pausing for a moment as he pushed Gryffindor's book back towards her on the table, 'I want to offer you a deal.'

Hermione's eyes darted to the book before her, before she looked back up into Riddle's eyes again. 'What the devil is he playing at?' she thought. 'Surely, if all that is required is my presence, he could just stun me and read both books in here. Why is he, all of the sudden, exhibiting this kind, friendly demeanour around me?'

'I take it that the lack of an immediate refusal entails you might be interested in hearing the deal?' Tom asked, pleasantly.

Hermione nodded, still slightly reluctant. She had to be missing something, she knew it. Lord Voldemort does not do nice without a specific objective in mind.

'I say that we find time in our busy schedules to reconvene here at the same time, so you can read from Infinity in Space and I can read Eternity in Time. That way we won't have to deal with the annoying getting interrupted bits and pieces.'

Hermione narrowed her eyes. This didn't make sense and she blurted it out immediately. 'Why would you bother in letting me read Godric's book, when you can simply stun me and read them both, right now, on your own accord?'

She saw the greedy, triumphant flash fly through his eyes and realised she had made a mistake. He tapped on the Gryffindor volume with his right hand and said: 'So you are able to read the text in here. I was hoping you would be, because I seem to be unable to. I checked that immediately after I saw the pages were no longer blank.'

Hermione scolded herself for letting that bit of information slip, but she knew she was fine for now. 'I haven't read the damn thing yet, Riddle. So don't bother trying to force the information from my mind. It's not there, and since you now, so kindly, have informed me what you're after, I'll make sure the information will never reach my mind at all.'

'I'm not here to attack you, Hermione,' Riddle continued nicely. 'I already told you, I'm here to make a deal. You tell me what's in there,' and he nodded towards Gryffindor's book. 'And I'll tell you what's in here,' and he patted on Slytherin's workmanship.

Hermione roared with laughter after this ridiculous assertion of Tom Riddle. 'Yeah, sure, Riddle, like you're going to tell me the truth.' Another burst of laughter. 'And I'm certain I will hear everything that's in there. You will, of course, leave nothing out,' she said sarcastically.

'Hmmm… yet again, not an immediate refusal… I take it you're interested in finding out what's in here.' And he held up Salazar's book for her to see. 'I doubt very much you will be able to find another capable of reading this, Hermione. Unless, you can find someone else with Salazar's bloodline, and a thorough understanding of Runes, English and written Parseltongue,' he added casually, smiling, sweetening the deal.

'Of course I'm interested in finding out what's in there, Riddle. After all, from the two of us, I'm the one stuck in the wrong time-frame. However, _you_ can not be trusted,' Hermione said sharply.

It was as simple as that, even though it was tempting to take him up on his offer. It was impossible. She needed to find another way to get the information from Eternity in Time. Though a small voice in the back of her head told her there was no other way, and that she needed the information to complete her task.

'If I told you there was a way to make certain we would not be able to tell lies about what was in these volumes, would you be willing to share the information in Gryffindor's book in return for the information from Salazar's?' Tom questioned, now eyeing her intently.

For a moment, she could sense his excitement, his longing for the information that was currently hidden, and she realised he would stop at nothing to obtain it. His hunger was too apparent. But she couldn't go along with this, could she? If he would get the information, he would use the book to travel through time.

'But he already used the book, more than once,' her internal voice stated, 'Tom prevented his own death with it, and his older self sent you over here, so he found a way to get to the knowledge inside with or without your help. You might as well take advantage of the situation and get the information yourself as well.'

And she knew that it was a cop-out. She sensed her own hunger, her own excitement, her own longing towards obtaining the knowledge inside the two volumes before her. And a part of her was screaming 'No, No, No!', but there was this other, much louder, part that was vocalising 'Yes, Yes, Yes!' She needed to know, she needed to become a Master of Eternity in Time and that meant obtaining the knowledge inside, which Riddle was currently generously offering her. Something, she told herself, he most likely would not have done, had he realised the real reason behind her desire for the book's knowledge. And returning to her time-frame was only a small part of that desire.

And, of course, he was unaware of the existence of the two others. She could safely donate Godric's knowledge, knowing that she would be able to get to Ravenclaw's and Hufflepuff's in a heartbeat, and he might run into some obstacles there as well. She was wondering whether Riddle knew that merely obtaining the information inside the books would not be enough to activate them. For him to know the text did not mean he could use Godric's book, did it? She was wondering about this for a while.

' _Evans.'_

She had Accio-ed Eternity in Time when Riddle was dying, and the book had responded to her, when she held it and specified what she needed, but why had it done that?

' _EVANS!'_

She was not supposed to be able to use it. It did not make sense.

'EVANS!' A slap on the table broke her out of her reverie. 'Are you going to answer my question or what?' Tom asked, exasperated.

She looked at him, a bit dazed. 'What was the question again?' she said.

'Do we have a deal to tell each other what's in these books if I make sure we can't lie about it?' Tom said, sighing, unable to keep up his pleasant act.

'That depends on how you plan to make sure, Riddle. Because I'm not getting involved in some kind of Dark Arts Ritual,' Hermione stated with certitude.

Tom smiled. He was obviously relieved with her answer. 'The Dark Arts are really not necessary for this. All we have to do is make the Unbreakable Vow, that way neither of us will be able to lie about the contents of the book to the other.'

Hermione did not like the sound of that. The Unbreakable Vow; to make an Unbreakable Vow with the Dark Lord. Sure, it would prevent any lying from taking place, but it could backfire on her severely.

'We can't do that,' Hermione said, relieved at remembering the little detail. 'We would need a Bonder to perform the spell and I don't think either of us wants to involve a third party in this.'

'There is a simple way around that. I can be Bonder and Vowtaker at the same time,' Tom stated.

'No, that is not possible,' said Hermione, remembering Goshawk's writings.

'Actually, it is,' Tom said smugly, 'it takes a bit of an effort, I'll grant you that, but it is doable. So do you want to make up the vows, or should I?'

Hermione most definitely did not want him making up the vows, so she said she would. And she grabbed a piece of parchment from her bag and her quill and started writing, scratching the words again, whenever she saw a loophole appear. Tom had got out of his chair and was pacing the room until she was finished, which wasn't helping her to keep her concentration.

'That won't work,' Tom suddenly stated, reading over her shoulder again.

'Do you have any idea how annoying it is when people read over your shoulder while you are writing?' Hermione said, irritated, scratching the line out again, because she saw the problem in the sentence as well.

'You're making the sentences too complicated,' Tom said, ignoring her outburst and reading the next line she was writing down.

'Well, I'd like to make sure there are no ways to get around the vows. I would think that would be something you want too. Now, stop distracting me with this … this … standing behind me and nagging thing you seem to be keen on doing, and let me finish,' Hermione said bossily, scratching out a couple of words again.

But Tom did not move away, instead he leaned forward to look over Hermione's shoulder again, his right arm moved along side hers, and he took a hold of the hand that was holding the quill, while his left hand found support on the table next to her left arm.

'Riddle, what are you doing?' Hermione demanded to know, shocked by their sudden close proximity.

'Why don't you just write down this?' he breathed softly in her ear, and he moved her hand across the parchment writing down the sentence of a vow.

" _Will you, Tom Marvolo Riddle, tell Hermione the entire contents of Eternity in Time?"_

'There, no way around that one. Simple is always best,' Tom said smugly, still holding onto her hand, making her uncomfortable with his presence.

Hermione looked at the sentence in disbelief. She could not be so lucky, surely he would realise before they would take the vows…

But then she realised she would have to put down her real name for these vows to work properly. 'I can't…' she started to say.

But he interrupted her and whispered in her ear: 'I've known your real last name ever since the night you arrived here, Miss Granger. Surely by now you would know you can't keep any secrets from me. It's like I said earlier, you're a terrible liar.'

'Fine,' Hermione said shortly, not responding to this latest bit of delightful news, and trying to keep her voice from sounding to eager in regards to getting this particular vow taken. 'Do you want the same vow in return?'

'Sounds good to me,' Tom said cheerfully.

He let go of her and pulled out his wand to perform the spell that would make the vows they were about to take punishable by death upon breaking them. They both knelt down and grabbed a hold of each others right hand. 'Do you have a middle name?' Tom asked Hermione.

'Jean,' Hermione replied.

'So, it's Hermione Jean Granger.'

She nodded. A bit nervous about what she was about to do.

'Alright, this will be a little different in performance than with a third party as Bonder present. I, first, have to perform the Bond, and we will then each swear our vow, after which I will have to seal it, so it will reach its state as an Unbreakable Vow. Make sure you do not mispronounce the sentence, because there will be no changing it once it's spoken,' Tom said with authority in his voice.

He flourished his wand around and a fiery snake flew around them in a circle, before entwining itself around their linked hands and fastening itself like a robe. The two books on the table let out a soft glow, and Hermione gasped, when she felt the Bond was already flowing through her veins, before any of the words were spoken. She was slightly beginning to panic now. 'This was a mistake. I should not have done this. I'm in deep trouble now.'

But Tom was already reciting his line, and the point of no return was reached the moment he flashed his wand to perform the Bonding Spell. _'Will you, Hermione Jean Granger, tell Tom Marvolo Riddle the entire contents of_ _Infinity in Space_ _?'_

'I will,' Hermione responded.

A thin tongue of brilliant flame shot from Tom's wand, and moved around their hands interlinking with the fiery snake. Tom nodded towards Hermione indicating that it was her turn.

' _Will you, Tom Marvolo Riddle, tell Hermione Jean Granger the entire contents of_ _Eternity in Time_ _?'_

'I will,' Tom responded.

Another tongue of flame was issued from his wand, and made its way around the others. For a moment the fiery rope glowed intensely. Tom flicked his wand again … a fiery flash, a flow of heat charged through the rope surrounding their linked hands, entering their veins, making its way through their bodies, and then, as sudden as it started, it was over. Tom and Hermione were still kneeling on the floor, panting heavily, perspiring profusely, staring into each other's eyes, holding hands, unmoveable.

So they never saw what happened when Tom performed that last spell. They did not see the dash of silver and gold emanating from the books at the same time of the last fiery flash from Tom's wand. They did not see the leaves of the two books turning violently, and they certainly missed both books rendering shut again at the same time the Unbreakable Vow was completed. And everything was silent…


	9. Chapter 9

**Masters of Manipulation**

**Chapter Nine**

'YOU DID WHAT!?' Minerva shrieked, causing Hermione to jump up several feet in the air. She swivelled her head back and forth to check out the corridor. A couple of third years were giving them curious looks, but no one else was there.

'Have you completely and totally lost your mind?' Minerva said, now in a more hushed tone of voice. Hermione considered for a moment informing Minerva that completely and totally were basically one and the same, but decided against the pun when she noticed the concern on the Head Girl's face. A concern, that was not without merits. Hermione had made an Unbreakable Vow with Lord Voldemort, and she had just told her friend about it. And that friend was not happy.

'Why would you do such a thing? Don't you know he'll use it against you? You realise there must be some ulterior motive behind this. And when you find out…'

Hermione interrupted Minerva's anxious and angry ranting. 'Listen, Minerva, this is what Tom vowed too: _Will you, Tom Marvolo Riddle, tell Hermione Jean Granger the entire contents of_ _Eternity in Time_ _?'_

'So? You did the same. You just told me,' Minerva said grunting, not seeing what Hermione saw.

'Ah, yes, but I have nothing hidden in that book!' Hermione stated, triumphant, and she snickered. 'All I have to tell is the text in the pages, while he…'

'Ohhh,' Minerva said, now understanding what Hermione meant. 'He'll have to tell you all about the Blood-Binding Charm.'

'Yes, and he has to tell me everything else that his old self and Salazar might have done to that book too,' Hermione stated, grinning deviously. 'The entire contents; not just the text. You know, I couldn't believe it when I read what he had written down. I thought for sure he would realise, but he didn't.'

'He vowed to that?' Minerva said absolutely marvelled. 'You have got to take pictures, dear, really. Or at least, let me be present when you tell him. I've got to see the look on his face. I've just got to. When are you two going to meet again?'

Hermione laughed at Minerva's excitement. 'Tomorrow night, and sorry, no visitors allowed.'

'Tomorrow, but I thought we would have our first meeting then?' Minerva asked, uncertain. 'I already told Pomona and Augusta.'

'Our meeting is at seven and I agreed with Riddle we would reconvene at nine, so we have plenty of time to finish our meeting,' Hermione said, while she thought that there wouldn't be much to discuss anyway, since she made Minerva swear not to reveal her mission.

'Isn't it a bit risky, since you and Riddle will be meeting in the Room also?' Minerva asked.

'Come on Minerva, do you really think it will take us two hours? I suspect we'll be done in half an hour, one hour tops,' Hermione said, hoping she was right, because she did not feel like having a Zacharias Smith experience again.

But this time there were only four students who needed informing, and it wasn't like she was Harry Potter, after all. They wouldn't have a thousand questions for her. These weren't the same stupid people who felt like quizzing another on what it was like when Voldemort killed someone in front of you. No, she would be fine. It would go smoothly, and after that she would surprise Riddle with her question. She was finally going to find out the truth behind those annoying things she felt. Suddenly, a hard push against her arm broke her out of her reverie.

' _I was_ _saying_ ,' Minerva said, emphasising on her words to make sure, this time, Hermione would pay attention, 'that it might take a bit longer than you think, but I guess we can always quit at any time we choose. Personally, I think it would be wise to be out of there at eight o'clock sharp. Just to be on the safe side.'

Hermione nodded. 'That's fine by me.'

She was glad. This way the meeting would not last the entire evening. She was not looking forward to it at all. She said goodbye to Minerva who had a Prefect meeting to attend, being Head Girl and all. So by herself again, Hermione went for a walk outside. Even though it was already November, the weather had been reasonable and it was nice to get some fresh air. She wasn't the only one who felt it was a good idea to be outside. Many students were wandering the grounds: huddled in packs or sitting on their own, in pairs snogging behind bushes or playing games of Exploding Snap.

She noticed the small cabin that would become Hagrid's home and out of habit she walked in its direction. It wasn't until she arrived there that she remembered she had no business there in the first place. Hagrid probably didn't even live there yet. But still, she walked around it, just for old time sake, and she was enjoying her walk, until there were loud screams coming from everywhere. Thundering footsteps, and a familiar voice shouting: 'No, no, c'mon, c'mon now, that's a good Hippogriff. No, don't hurt him!'

And Hermione stepped out from behind the small cabin to see what the hoopla was all about. Hoopla didn't begin to describe the situation. It was a terrible mess, a brouhaha, a rumpus, an all around hullabaloo, if you will. And in the centre of it stood a huge boy, waving with his arms at a very familiar, albeit younger, Hippogriff: Buckbeak. Apparently, Buckbeak had broken loose and had been stampeding around the grounds, because several students were injured, a number of diverse items lay scattered around in pieces, and Hermione noticed people were panicking all around Hagrid. Firing hexes, stunners, jinxes: everything they could think of at the Hippogriff, which had no calming effect on the beast; on the contrary. And the mess kept getting bigger and bigger. Hermione knew she had to act, before some harm would come to Buckbeak and he would not be around to help them save Sirius. So remembering how much Buckbeak enjoyed a nice ferret every now and again, she Accio-ed the ferrets hanging on the side of the cottage.

'Buckbeak!' Hermione shouted. 'Come and get the nice little ferret!'

And she threw one into the direction of the sizeable beast. It caught the ferret in midair, and swallowed it whole. Its giant eagle head now turned to face Hermione, and she made sure to maintain eye contact, and not to blink, since Professor Hagrid had told them that was important when you were approaching a Hippogriff. Buckbeak took a few steps towards her. And Hermione made a deep bow. For a moment Buckbeak stared haughtily at her, but then it sank down into a bow. An excited, youthful Hagrid was now shouting cheers at her.

'Righ' then, yeh can touch him now. Pat his beak, go on!' Hagrid said.

And Hermione did as he said. She slowly moved towards Buckbeak and patted his beak. 'Hello, Buckbeak,' she said quietly. 'Nice to see you again.' And she donated another ferret to the Hippogriff.

'Yeh, good Hippogriff, hold 'n,' said Hagrid. He was approaching the Hippogriff as well, and Hermione noticed the rope he held behind his back. 'Could yeh give him another one?' he asked Hermione.

Hermione nodded and held out another ferret for Buckbeak. 'Look, Buckbeak,' she said cheerful, holding out her last ferret, 'this one is called Malfoy.'

She heard Hagrid chuckle at that remark.

And surely, that ferret went down the road of least resistance quickly. 'Yeah,' said Hermione, patting Buckbeak again, 'tasty buggers, aren't they?'

Hagrid threw the rope over the neck of the Hippogriff, but it didn't respond with violence anymore. It was too busy nudging Hermione against the shoulder, trying to get her to sprout another ferret, no doubt.

Hagrid was now patting the Hippogriff as well, while eyeing Hermione with a lot of interest. 'Not many people know how to approach a Hippogriff,' he said beaming to Hermione.

'I had a good teacher,' answered Hermione smiling back at him. 'My name is Hermione, by the way, Hermione Evans.' And she held out her hand towards Hagrid.

'Rubeus, Rubeus Hagrid,' he said in return, and they shook hands. 'You know, I reckon he migh' let yeh ride him,' Rubeus said encouragingly to Hermione, but Hermione merely jumped backwards in fright.

'No, sorry, I'm afraid of heights,' she said, scared she would end up on the back of that beast again. And really, flying it one time was more than enough of an experience for her. She felt no need to repeat it.

'All righ', no need to get frightened, won't push yeh. What did yeh call 'im?' Hagrid asked.

'Buckbeak, that's his name, isn't it?' Hermione replied, wondering.

'Buckbeak,' Rubeus said, while eyeing the Hippogriff's responses. 'I thin' he likes that name; Buckbeak, it is.'

'Well done, well done; twenty points to Slytherin, for keeping your head cool under pressure and subduing a very dangerous beast.'

The sudden interruption in Hermione's and Hagrid's conversation came from Professor Kettleburn. The Care of Magical Creatures teacher was walking across the lawn towards them and Hermione, suddenly, noticed how much attention their performance had got. Students were gathered all around them, watching apprehensively in case the Hippogriff would go into another frenzy.

'Rubeus, I think it would be wise to bring it back to the stables. No more letting the Hippogriff out for a walk, all right? We don't want any more accidents, such as two years ago.'

Professor Kettleburn's arrogant, stern voice did not leave any opening for debate, and Hagrid nodded humbly. Hermione narrowed her eyes at Kettleburn in anger. Hagrid hadn't been responsible for that! Kettleburn had no right to treat him in such a degrading manner. Hagrid was certainly not inferior to him.

'Sir, I believe everything would have been all right with the Hippogriff if people would not have started panicking and hexing it upon merely seeing the creature. This is not Pro... Hagrid's fault. Buckbeak is quite sweet if treated correctly,' Hermione said, defiantly.

'Miss Evans, I'm astounded at your behaviour. Surely a student with your skill and knowledge should be aware that Hippogriffs are determined to be a class III threat by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. They are not harmless beings. Therefore, they are not allowed to walk freely,' Kettleburn said haughtily, thinking that bit of information would be the end of Hermione's insubordination, but he did not asses his student correctly.

'The Ministry finds everything that is slightly different from us and has some kind of force of its own a threat. Their classifications are basically only a means to ensure that things they fear stay locked up. It has nothing to do with whether those creatures really are dangerous. It is just plain wizarding arrogance,' Hermione stated boldly, not really believing everything she just said, but she was determined to make sure Kettleburn would stop humiliating Hagrid.

'Well, well, that's an interesting point of view, Miss Evans, and slightly naïve, I would say. Why don't you escort Rubeus over here to the stables, so you can make sure this, as you call it, harmless creature gets back inside,' Kettleburn stated, and he turned around and strode off.

He was, apparently, not in the mood for a real discussion with an insolent student, especially if he might lose that discussion in front of a crowd.

Said insolent student watched him move away. 'Nasty man,' she said to Hagrid, 'he had no right to treat you that way. It really wasn't your fault.'

Hagrid was watching her with his eyes wide open. Hermione did not know it yet, but her little speech to Kettleburn had just made Hagrid her friend for life. So later on, when Minerva asked Rubeus Hagrid if he would be willing to come help her and Slytherin's Hermione Evans, Minerva did not have to explain anything or ask twice. Hagrid would be there.

* * *

Hermione Granger was on her way to the Room of Requirement for her very first clandestine meeting in 1944, with the people Minerva had selected to be trustworthy. Today, there had been a Quidditch match. So Hermione had watched the Slytherin-Hufflepuff exchange with clenched fists, and she had felt like setting someone on fire again when she saw the appalling performance of Hufflepuff Seeker, Eve Macmillan. Hermione had spent much of her spare time in trying to protect that girl ever since she overheard the Mulciber-Riddle conversation, and she was certain no one had been able to curse Macmillan, but now, it seemed like, somehow, Riddle had got to the girl. After all, Hermione couldn't keep him from talking to Macmillan, especially since said girl had no problem whatsoever with being around the oh-so charming Head Boy.

Hermione growled. The man was a menace. How on earth had he been able to get a fanatic Quidditch Seeker from an opposite House to not do her best in the match? Because Hermione had seen how Eve Macmillan had noticed the Snitch several times and had flown into another direction on purpose. Naturally, with their best player doing a lousy performance, Hufflepuff had lost the match, and Hermione had seen Eve leave the scene later on, crying with passion.

'Manipulative bastard,' she scolded Riddle. 'Dumb, stupid, overly trusting girl,' she scolded Eve. 'Never, ever am I going to waste my time like that again,' and she scolded herself for doing so.

'Did you see the match?' Minerva's annoyed voice came from across the corridor.

'Oh yeah, I saw it,' Hermione said, still irritated. 'I told you it wasn't about the You-Know-What's that he was suddenly charming Macmillan. Do you have any idea how much time I've spent protecting her from harm? Only to have that… that…'

'Piece of shit,' Minerva added helpfully.

'That lying snake simply talk her out of doing her best. I could have done my Potions homework yesterday. But _noooo_ …,' Hermione said, scornfully. 'I had to go out and hex Avery, Mulciber, and Lestrange, because they were busy setting Macmillan up for a trip to the infirmary. And I did it all for nothing, because, apparently, it is far more important to please Riddle than to hold on to your own self-respect.'

'I noticed she was crying when she left the pitch,' Minerva said quietly.

'I saw that, too,' Hermione said, calming down a bit at that thought.

It wasn't entirely fair for her to blame it all on Eve Macmillan. After all, the girl was only fourteen and had probably been a relatively easy mark for Lord Voldemort. Well, she was going to avenge Eve tonight. Voldemort would be in for a surprise once he realised what he had carelessly vowed to.

When the two girls arrived in front of the blank wall on the seventh floor, where the Room of Requirement was located, they saw all the others had already arrived and were standing, rather conspicuously, in the corridor. Hermione took one worried look at Minerva to see she was thinking the same thing Hermione was. If anyone had seen these four individuals, standing around like that, they would have got very curious as to why, what, and how.

'We better get in quickly,' Minerva whispered to Hermione.

Hermione nodded, looking up and down the corridor for stray wanderers. There weren't any.

'So why are…'

But Minerva stopped Augusta Longbottom's question by holding up her hand. 'Wait 'til we're inside,' said Minerva quietly.

'Inside what?' Ernest Lovegood asked, interested.

But he got his answer after a door emerged in the blank wall. Minerva had passed the Room three times. 'Quickly,' she said, and motioned them all in.

Hermione was still eyeing the corridor up and down. Riddle hadn't been at the match, and she surely was hoping he wasn't anywhere around to have noticed this unlikely little gathering. Hagrid gave her a smile when he bent over to step through the door, but he was the only one. Pomona Sprout eyed the Slytherin girl with great distaste, having just seen the match. And Augusta and Ernest were far busier with other things to even take notice of Hermione. When they all had got inside, Hermione sat down on the couch next to Minerva. Rubeus occupied one entirely on his own, and the other three had each taken an armchair to sit in. Ernest was eyeing the Room dreamily, while the others took turns in glaring curiously from Minerva to Hermione.

'So why did you invite this Slytherin to come too, if we are here to discuss what we're going to do about Riddle?' Pomona asked Minerva, giving Hermione an angry glare. And she did not wait for Minerva's answer, but continued vengeful: 'Surely she will tell everything we discuss here to that boyfriend of hers, the real Head of Slytherin.'

'What!?' Hermione snapped.

And if it wasn't for Minerva touching her arm, warning her to stay calm and seated, she would have jumped up and told her future Herbology Professor an earful of where she could stick her assumptions…

'I think you should all know that Hermione Evans is a true friend of mine, and I will not stand by and watch her be discarded by any of you,' Minerva said strictly. 'She has, over the last week, protected your House Seeker from harm, Pomona.'

'Fat lot of good that did,' Pomona muttered.

'If it hadn't been for Hermione here, Eve Macmillan would be in the infirmary right now, and you can hardly blame her for the foolishness of your House's Seeker,' Minerva stated, now a bit louder than necessary. 'Besides, Hermione isn't a real Slytherin. She was originally sorted into Gryffindor, and she is still a true Gryffindor at heart.'

Hermione's eyes widened and she swept her head towards Minerva, tightening her lips, while she whispered through gritted teeth: 'We agreed we wouldn't tell them.'

'Not tell us what?' Ernest asked, cheerful, like there wasn't a cloud in the sky.

'That Hermione is from the future,' Minerva stated bluntly.

There was no stopping Hermione now. She jumped out of the couch, and started yelling at Minerva. 'We agreed on this! I only allowed them to get involved if we weren't going to tell them! Riddle will figure it out, and they will be in danger if he finds out they know! You can't just make a decision like that without consulting me, Minerva! This is my problem! And mine alone! I don't want others getting hurt over me!'

'I know you don't want that,' Minerva said calmly to the furious Slytherin standing before her. 'But it isn't all up to you, Hermione. Tom Riddle is everybody's problem, if what you told me about him is true, and from what I know of him, it is. So you need others to help you. And I selected this group of people, because I know they all have their own personal reasons to mistrust Tom.' For a brief moment Minerva gave Augusta an amused glance.

And surely Augusta stood up immediately. 'I really don't have time for this, Minerva,' she said coolly. 'This is obviously one of your silly pranks, and frankly, just how stupid do you think we all are? From the future, sure … and I'm from Mars.'

'Oh, that explains why you have the exact same kind of hair as the Martian Emperor,' Lovegood stated, eyeing Augusta with his dreamy eyes.

'There are no Martians, Ernest,' Minerva said, barely holding in a sigh. 'The planet is uninhabited.'

'Sure, it is now… After we, humans, have exterminated them. But the Royal family has fled to earth and is known to be hiding around us,' Ernest Lovegood said, certain.

'So, are you a descendant from them?' he asked Augusta, who was looking back at him, clearly baffled.

However, it didn't take Augusta long to regain her composure and she stated ironically: 'Oh yes, I am, Ernest. And I'm going to get my revenge on all you silly earthlings soon enough. Goodbye, Minerva, I hope you have fun with these morons.'

'Wait!' Hermione said sharply.

She knew she could not let Augusta Longbottom leave, since she appeared so annoyed that she would probably tell the story about Minerva's alleged prank around. And since Riddle already knew Hermione came from the future… This story had to be stopped before Augusta would spread it around, and so Hermione told her everything she could recall Neville had once told her about his family.

'You were born in London in a small Muggle hospital, because your mother had lost her wand and could not Apparate to St. Mungo's. Your parents expect you to marry Ignatius Prewett, but you are in love with your second cousin twice removed, Seuss Longbottom, and you will elope with him. You plan to name your firstborn son Frank, which is what you will do. You consider Charms an easy, fun subject for the weak-minded, because you did not receive an O.W.L. in it,' Hermione said all this so quickly that she was somewhat out of breath at the end of it.

'How do you know that my mother lost her wand? My mother did not want anyone to know, so she and dad hit that embarrassing fact very carefully, and I know I've never told anyone.' Augusta was staring at Hermione with clear shock in her face.

'Your grandson Neville told me,' Hermione said.

'My grandson,' Augusta repeated slowly.

Hermione could see the wheels in her mind turning, as if desperate to find another explanation as to how Hermione could know this big family secret. Losing a wand was considered a real act of stupidity in the Wizarding World. It was like losing one's head. It was not done.

'This is no joke, Augusta,' Minerva said. 'Hermione needs our help. She really is from the future, and she is here, because she needs to obtain two objects in order to stop Lord Voldemort.'

Hermione gasped when she heard Minerva make the blunder.

'Who?' Pomona asked.

'I mean Tom Riddle,' Minerva quickly corrected herself, but the damage had already been done.

'Then why did you say Lord Volthethinges?' Augusta said curious.

'An anagram,' Ernest said absentmindedly.

Hermione's jaw dropped several inches at the speed in which Luna's granddad had solved Riddle's carefully created other identity. The others, who did not have this information, stared at Ernest with amusement on their faces, until Hermione explained it to them.

'Tom Marvolo Riddle has the same letters as "I am Lord Voldemort". It's the name he'll be using when he starts his reign of terror.'

'So he will be joining Grindelwald's forces after this year?' Hagrid asked.

'No,' Hermione answered. 'He is not the following type.'

And she noticed the questions that answer created and she saw how it began to bubble into the minds of the others as well.

'Look, I'm not supposed to tell you what is going to happen. Bad things happen to wizards who meddle with Time. I need help if you're willing to give it, but I can't tell you all about the future. It's too risky.' And she looked at each and every single one of the four people in the room. 'This is worse than the first DA-meeting,' she thought. 'A hell of a lot worse.'

'Of course you can't,' Augusta said firmly, having, apparently, decided this wasn't an elaborate McGonagall prank. 'The fact that we now know about this could land you in Azkaban. Let alone if you start sharing vital information.'

'Too bad,' Ernest said sadly, 'I would have liked to know whether the Crumple-Horned Snorkack has been domesticated in your day and age.' And he eyed Hermione with curiosity, hoping she would give him a hint.

'There are no Crumple-Horned Snorkacks,' Minerva said irritated. 'They are make-believe, fictional animals. They only exist in your mind, Ernest.'

Hermione had a clear sense of déjà vu here.

'Just because you do not believe, Minerva, doesn't mean they are not real. I happen to know for certain that they originated in Sweden,' Ernest stated, sure of himself.

'Gosh, why haven't the Swedish announced their existence then?' Augusta said, amused.

'Because the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks are shy, solitary creatures,' Ernest answered happily. 'They don't like moving around humans.'

'How convenient,' Augusta muttered.

'How big are they?' Hagrid asked Ernest, interested.

And Hermione was certain that Hagrid would only be interested in Lovegood's Crumple-Horned Snorkack if it could kill you in a blink of an eye.

Ernest wanted to start replying, but Minerva interrupted the frustrating debate. 'No, no, no, we are not here to discuss this nons… this creature. Do you want to help us stop Voldemort?'

'You can't call him that, Minerva. Tom thinks no one else knows that name. I thought we already had this discussion,' Hermione said warningly.

'Yes, yes, alright. So … do you all want to help Hermione stop You-Know-Who?' Minerva said instead.

Hermione blinked when she heard Minerva use one of the other names Voldemort would be known by in the future, but she did not correct her this time.

'I'll help yeh,' Rubeus said.

'Sure,' said Ernest.

'Me too,' answered Augusta.

'So, how can we help?' asked Pomona, who had merely nodded in concurrence.

'We need to find two more books.'

After Minerva had explained what kind of books they were looking for, everybody left.

Hermione, however, stopped Rubeus Hagrid on his way out. She needed to ask him a favour, a huge favour. After Minerva gave them a curious eye, Hermione told her she would inform her later on, but could not do this right now, because of Minerva's Head Girl status. Minerva left on that note, and Hermione and Rubeus were alone in the Room of Requirement.

'What yeh need?' Hagrid asked.

Hermione felt a bit guilty for asking this from someone who was now two years younger than her, but she knew she could not go alone. It was too dangerous with all the creatures out there, and she knew Aragog would not hurt Hagrid.

'I need to go into the Forbidden Forest. I was hoping you would be willing to accompany me?' Hermione asked, watching Hagrid apprehensively.

Sure, the Hagrid she knew would have no problem with travelling through the forest, but this was a teenage Hagrid, who had already almost been kicked off the premises. One more toe that crossed the line and Hermione was certain not even Albus Dumbledore could stop Headmaster Dippet from sending Hagrid away.

'Of course, I'll go wit' yeh. I know m' way 'round the forest. What yeh need in there?' Hagrid said, delighted he could help.

'Unicorn blood, freely given by an adult male,' Hermione said, slightly apprehensive about Hagrid's reaction to that.

After all, there were not too many known uses for Unicorn blood, and all of them were illegal not to mention very much a reference to the Dark Arts. Though the potion Hermione was brewing was not a Dark Arts Potion at all. She was certain of that, or so she told herself.

'Unicorn blood, that migh' be difficul' in getting o'r hands on. What yeh need it for anyway?' Hagrid asked curious.

'I'm brewing a potion that might protect me from some of Riddle's … uh… thingies.'

Hermione realised she could not say Horcrux, because Hagrid had no knowledge of their existence. Minerva was the only one whom she had shared that information with and they had agreed upon keeping that detail a secret from the others. Because Hermione felt it was risky enough that Minerva knew. She had, after all, never known about the existence of them, and Hermione had severely fooled around with the time-line by telling Minerva all these things.

'Alrigh' then, I'll help yeh, when do yeh wanna go?'

'As soon as possible; if you can, I'd like to go tomorrow morning,' Hermione said.

'Fine, we best go early, more of them 'round. How 'bout five?' Hagrid suggested.

Hermione agreed to the early timetable, and so they parted ways for now. Hermione watched Hagrid leave before she left this version of the Room herself, walked three times past the hidden doorway again and re-entered the Room of Requirement to wait for Tom Riddle.

And while she waited, Hermione thought about the potion she had been brewing. The potion she was asking Hagrid to break the rules for. A potion that could get him kicked from the grounds for certain if they were caught trying to obtain Unicorn blood, because Hermione was certain no Professor would let them walk away with something like that without hearing all the details.

She had found out about the potion when she was in Godric's room doing research on the Horcruxes. After the incident in the Slytherin Common Room, Hermione had felt it might be prudent to find out if there was a way to stop Riddle's soul from entering another human being. She had not found the experience of having a piece of the Dark Lord inside of her a pleasurable one, and so she had gone looking for ways to protect herself, should Riddle find it necessary to get himself killed again in front of her.

She had not previously picked up Secrets of the Darkest Art, because she also had a copy of it inside her beaded bag, but that day she had an interest in the book on the shelf beside it, and the Horcrux book had fallen to the ground. When she had tried to place it back, she had noticed there were some strange pieces of parchment sticking out of it. Hermione had pulled them out of the book and had found that the parchment contained a recipe for a potion. The potion was created by Helga Hufflepuff. Hermione immediately recognised the handwriting, even before she saw the name at the end of the page. According to the Founder, this potion would make someone impenetrable for a dark soul to enter. There was a warning at the end that the use of this potion was extremely dangerous, and that if one's own soul was not, in essence, a representation of the light, that the user was at risk of casting out their very own soul as well.

But Hermione had felt confident that she was in the clear on that account, so she had started to obtain the ingredients required, and had begun brewing the potion inside Godric's Room. Minerva had asked her a couple of times what it was, but Hermione had told her she would explain someday. She did not know why she did not tell Minerva all about it. She had told her everything else, but for some reason, she had felt this was something she should not share with another. It was like the knowledge of this potion alone was forbidden. It felt exactly like when she was holding onto Godric's book, or Salazar's. Something, that was not supposed to be around anymore. Something, that was not supposed to be shared.

And if she would have seen that the two pages of parchment were glowing every time Hermione was on the verge of sharing its contents with anyone, she would have known for sure this was similar to the two books; that there, perhaps, was a bit more to those two pages of parchment than it would seem on first glance. But Hermione had not seen the glowing. And the potion was extremely difficult and had taken all her attention upon brewing. So any thoughts she might have had about Love of Mankind were put aside due to other issues.

Right now, the potion was nearly finished, and the one ingredient she had not been able to obtain yet was Unicorn blood. She only needed to add one drop, but it might as well have been an entire bottle, for it would be extremely difficult to get a Unicorn to give it up freely. So that's why she needed Hagrid to come along. Hermione knew Hagrid was highly respected in the Forbidden Forest by the creatures that lived there, and he most likely had a better understanding where to find the Unicorns in the first place. So she hoped that tomorrow morning she would obtain the blood and finish the potion.

She lifted herself out of the chair she was in and began pacing the Room. What was keeping Riddle? Surely, he should have been here by now.


	10. Chapter 10

**Masters of Manipulation**

**Chapter ten**

Hermione was pacing to and fro in the Room of Requirement. Every now and then she would throw an annoyed glance at the clock, which had miraculously appeared on the wall when she started to wonder what the exact time was. It was nine-fifteen and Riddle was nowhere to be seen. She felt like trashing something, preferably the stupid Head Boy for keeping her waiting. But he wasn't around, so she blew up one of the chairs with a carefully aimed Blasting Charm instead. It didn't make her feel any better. She stared at the two books on the table, and a devious smile made it to her face. If Riddle couldn't make it on his own accord on time, then perhaps she should force him here. So she pulled up a chair, picked up Godric's book and started reading vigorously. Hermione was halfway through the first page, when…

'Finally, I thought I would be stuck in that corridor and sprout roots, before it would occur to your feeble little mind that I can't get into this Room on my own. Something we definitely have to fix before this evening has passed.'

Tom Riddle, who sounded as annoyed as Hermione felt, slammed the door behind him and walked into the Room of Requirement. It was going to be a cosy evening.

'What's the matter Riddle? Am I imposing on your busy schedule of badgering Quidditch Seekers?'

He snorted. 'Really Evans, I have better things to do with my time than waste it on some mindless game.'

'Oh, I suppose Macmillan flew into the wrong direction on her own merit.'

Riddle eyed Hermione for a moment, before he slouched down into the chair at the opposite side of her table and responded. 'Actually, she did. I never told her to do that. She figured it out all on her own.'

And he started grinning. 'Women. They're _so_ easy. Always so willing to please another; to place someone else's happiness above their own, to put aside their own best interest for some bloke they think fancies them, when they hardly even know him. Let's say this is a good learning experience for sweet, gullible Eve.'

Hermione was envisioning how Tom Riddle would look if she were to practise the last charm that came from her wand on him. Alas, she still needed the information from Salazar's writings, so she settled for a nasty reply instead.

'Well, congratulations, Riddle. You were able to trick a fourteen year old,' she sneered, 'I hope you're proud of yourself, because I can imagine that must have been really, really hard work.'

'Hmmm… I think you will find out that I am even capable of tricking someone who is supposed to be slightly more mature, Evans,' and he was clearly staring at Hermione here.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. 'Really?' she said angry.

'Yeah, really,' he said smugly. 'Feeling slightly aggravated, are we?'

And he was definitely snickering underneath his breath, when he picked up Eternity in Time to start reading from it.

'Did the chair perhaps do something to you too, Evans?' he added, chuckling from behind the book.

Hermione snatched the book out of his hands. 'Not so fast Riddle. I have something to add first.'

Riddle sighed, and stretched out his hand, demanding the book back. 'I think we've wasted enough time on those … Gryffindoresk morals of yours. Let's just do what we came here for, so our time spent together can be as brief as possible.'

Hermione merely smiled, and went to sit further backwards in her chair, using Salazar's book as a means to wave air in her face, like she needed cooling down in the middle of November. 'What's in here, Riddle?' she said annoyingly cheerful.

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling. 'If you want to find out, then I suggest you hand me the book, so I can read all about it and inform you afterwards.'

'Not good enough,' Hermione said sharply, 'I want you to tell me what you, or your lovely older counterpart, have done with this book. I want to know who it was that spoke to me when I was underneath the Sorting Hat, and I want to know why and how I travelled here, and why I am feeling the bloody way that I am feeling, whenever I am near this blasted book or you. I want to know it all, Riddle. And you're going to tell me.'

'Oh… well, if you say so,' Tom said sarcastically, and he also started to lean backwards in his chair.

' _Will you, Tom Marvolo Riddle, tell Hermione Jean Granger the entire contents of_ _Eternity in Time_ _?'_

Hermione repeated the vow in an upbeat, triumphant tone of voice. Riddle frowned and stared at her obvious victorious expression.

'The entire contents, Riddle,' Hermione explained smugly, 'not just the text. It's as you said, simple vows are the best. We wouldn't want to get confused about its meaning, now would we?' she added with an infuriating smirk upon her face.

Riddle merely continued staring at her. His face set in that cool, collective, blank expression; like he hadn't a single care in the world. Like Hermione hadn't just outwitted him greatly. It was rather irritating, so Hermione added a little more hurt to injury. 'After all, it was _you_ who wrote down the vows. _You_ were the one who came up with the brilliant sentence. Thank you for that by the way, it was most accommodating of _you_.'

Silence filled the room, until Riddle let out a deep sigh of boredom.

'I've got to say this is most disappointing. I thought you would have gone through every book in the library about Blood-Binding Charms by now, Evans. Especially after I already informed you there was one inside of Eternity in Time, but I guess I must have overestimated you and your powers of deduction. So, if you want to waste our precious time here, with me telling you something you could have figured out on your own easily, then who am I to refuse a lady's request,' Tom said sighing.

'You know perfectly well that the only books who elaborate on Blood-Binding Charms are of such a dark nature that I would never get permission from a professor to extract one from the restricted section in the library. It would be very much against the rules of the ministry to allow a student access to that kind of knowledge,' Hermione replied.

It already had irked her severely that she had been unable to get to those books without Harry and his invisibility cloak. She did not need Riddle rubbing it in.

'Pffftt… rules and regulations,' Riddle said tauntingly, wondering if she would recognise the wording.

She did and he ducked just in time to avoid a collision between his head and a thick, green leather binding. His laugh filled the Room of Requirement.

'Really Granger, don't tell me you actually thought Salazar Slytherin would waste his time with the likes of you? And you did recognise my voice at first, didn't you? I really thought the game was up then, but fortunately for Lord Voldemort his enemies are rather dim-witted and gullible, easy to manipulate.' And he started laughing again.

'How could you have known that you needed to manipulate me into Slytherin, when I had only arrived 24 hours ago and you had no idea that I had that book?' Hermione asked through gritted teeth.

'Oh, was I not clear enough for you, dear?' he continued in an infuriating cheery tone.

'I was, of course, speaking of my lovely older counterpart. After I obtained the book from you, he kindly informed me all about the nice, charming discussion the two of you had. Very enjoyable I must say. I especially liked the little sop-story I had invented about Salazar's hatred for Muggle-borns being derived from the persecution of witchcraft by Muggles. I could not believe you actually bought that one. I was certain a witch of your calibre would have to remember the Chamber of Secrets, but I guess the book already was too long in your possession for it to not have an effect on you. I suppose the powers of the Blood-Binding Charm must have been far greater than I first assumed them to be, and they had already taken on at that time to influence your mind away from the tiny detail of the Basilisk. Because I doubt that I, Lord Voldemort, would have chosen an unworthy witch to be sent back to me. And I guess I was not mistaken, because here you are, willing and able to tell me all about what's in that blasted book over there.' And he pointed to Godric's writings with a smug grin.

However, Hermione's mind flashed back to the locket Horcrux. She had been in possession of that damn thing for quite some time, before the book was delivered to her. That must have been the real reason behind the fact that the Blood-Binding Charm proved to be more powerful than Voldemort had expected. She had already been under his influence. There was, however, no need to inform him of this information, even though she needed a lot more on the charm.

'What exactly does a Blood-Binding Charm do?' Hermione asked, ignoring the taunts and cold-hearted observations.

'Ah… yes, my most ingenious choice of action… Make sure Harry Potter loses that last bit of support that's available to him and bring her over to me.'

And he laughed again at seeing Hermione's shocked face, when she heard Tom Riddle reveal to her that he was very much aware of the existence of The-Boy-Who-Lived.

'I already told you, Hermione Jean Granger, you have no secrets from me,' he said, amused, and he appeared in deep thought, before continuing his explanation of the Blood-Binding Charm.

'To put it in the simplest way possible, so even _you_ can understand it, I guess you can say that a Blood-Binding Charm enables the caster to control whoever is foolish enough to donate their blood to them.'

'What?!' Hermione thought utterly appalled at this notion. A freezing cold fell upon her and the blood rushed from her face. 'He can control me? Surely, that can't be. I'm certain that I've done things he hasn't wanted me to do since my arrival here.'

'So my older version sent the book to you, knowing full well that you would try to make the book work by using that despicable blood of yours. You see, the charm takes on its most powerful effect when the blood is freely given. I trust no one forced you to splatter it all over the pages?' he said, watching her apprehensive state with clear satisfaction.

Not waiting for her to reply to the question he already knew the answer to in the first place, he continued sneering: 'Your parents really should have warned you about the dangers of using blood on magical objects… Oh, whoops.'

He slammed himself into the mouth mockingly and started laughing again.

'Petrificus Totalus.'

The laughing ceased abruptly, and with a loud crash, Tom Marvolo Riddle toppled backwards to the floor, chair and all. Hermione had cast the full Body-Bind Curse upon him. She stood up at her side of the table and leaned over it to watch the result of her curse.

'Hmmm… If I can do this here with Eternity in Time present at the scene of the crime, then I guess that control thing is somewhat exaggerated,' she said, thoroughly satisfied with the view of the rigid Head Boy.

She pointed her wand back at him and undid the curse.

'Mind telling me the truth now, Riddle? Or do you plan on testing out your Horcruxes against an Unbreakable Vow?'

He stumbled back to his feet, grabbed the chair and sat down furiously.

'Don't you ever hex me again, Granger,' he said menacingly.

Now, Hermione started laughing. 'What's the matter Riddle? Experienced a lack of _control_ over your blood buddy? Now, what is the true nature of this Blood-Binding Charm?'

'I already told you the true nature.'

'I don't mean the theory of it, Riddle. I live in the real world, remember. You have vowed to tell me what's hidden beneath these pages, not give me a lecture on Blood-Binding Charms in general. So tell me about the Blood-Binding Charm in this volume,' Hermione ordered and she glared at him, demanding an answer with her eyes.

Abruptly, Tom moved to his feet, his wand in his hand, and he walked over to Hermione's side of the table. He calmly shook his head when he noticed her hand was on its way to her pocket, and he pointed his wand at her. 'Don't move, Hermione. You asked, remember.'

'I asked you a question,' she said coolly, 'I don't recall saying you should threaten me.'

'Ah, yes, you wanted to know about the effects of the Blood-Binding Charm inside Eternity in Time,' he said quietly, while sitting down on the table right in front of her.

Their legs brushed each other and Hermione pressed her back into the chair in a futile attempt to place some distance between the two of them. But to her horror the next thing she felt was Riddle's wand touching her face. She froze up and stared at him apprehensively as he, slowly, moved a stray curl out of her face. She could see the amusement in his eyes at her fear and she inwardly scolded herself for allowing him to get to her like that. However, she was too aware of what kind of curses the owner of that wand could produce, so she said nothing and waited for him to continue his explanation of the charm inside Salazar's book.

'Well, it appears that the protective magic of the book is interfering with the forces of the Blood-Binding Charm,' Tom said softly, while removing his wand from her face. 'You see, Lord Voldemort used his blood as main actor upon the charm, knowing that if you would donate some of yours, the two would mix and you would fall under his control. Now, being the Heir of Slytherin, his blood was accepted without provocation by Eternity in Time, and therefore the charm could be placed within these pages. However, he has, apparently, underestimated Salazar Slytherin's protections on this book and it appears to have a significant problem with allowing the blood of a Muggle-born to remain present on these pages. I believe it is the main reason as to why the binding has remained incomplete.'

'If the book has such a problem with my presence, then why was I able to summon and activate it?' Hermione asked, slightly amused at the fact that, no doubt unwillingly, Salazar Slytherin had been her saviour.

'I can only make an educated guess to that matter, because honestly, I do not know for sure, but I remember you were covered in my blood at the time and you used my wand. So I'm guessing that was the activating factor,' Tom said, thoughtful.

'And prior to that?' Hermione asked.

'You mean your little time travel over here?' Tom questioned, and upon seeing her nod in an affirmative manner, he answered: 'I don't know how I did it yet, I haven't completely read the text after all, but I do know Eternity in Time was set for this destination by Lord Voldemort before he sent it to you. He told me this.'

'How did he tell you this?' Hermione said, realising he had mentioned talking to his older self before and had not explained this curious event.

'It was written on the empty pages, and it became visible the moment I opened the book.'

'So he left you some sort of letter of his wonderful accomplishments,' Hermione said, aggravated.

'Feeling aggravated again, Hermione?' Tom said, amused. 'Let me change that.'

And he stood up before her, took her hand into his wand-free one, and pulled her out of the chair. Tom wrapped his other arm around her waist and drew her close to him.

'Riddle! What. Do. You. Think. You. Are. Doing?!' Hermione said, outraged, and with clear emphasis on every word she spoke. She was unsuccessfully trying to push him away, while he placed his forehead against hers.

'Shh… just a little demonstration,' he said softly. 'I'm not going to hurt you. You asked, remember. You wanted to know about the effects of the charm, after all.'

'Now, stop struggling and hold still, or I'll make you,' he threatened, pushing the tip of his wand in her back.

Out of sheer shock, Hermione froze up and that, apparently, was all the momentum Riddle needed. He closed his eyes, and suddenly, Hermione felt: strange, weird, empty, devoid of all feeling and emotion. A cold sense of calmness, purpose and determination that was unlike her own infiltrated her mind, her thoughts, her very being. She felt lost; falling into the darkness that surrounded her, that claimed her. She couldn't breathe. She was being torn apart inside. A pain unlike anything she felt before. She wanted to die, she was sure of it, anything to stop the hurt. And as soon as it started, it was over.

'Now do you understand?' he said calmly, letting go of her and walking back to his seat at the other side of the table. He picked up Salazar's book and started reading, not paying any attention to the highly distressed girl.

Hermione grabbed a hold of the table, panting, trying to feel again, anything. Even the previously felt aggravation was preferable to that abyss of darkness, that void of nothingness she just exited. 'Do you feel like that all the time?' she asked, appalled at the notion.

Riddle looked up from behind his book. 'What makes you say that?' he said sharply.

Confused, Hermione looked at her still trembling hands. And she sat back down in the chair, without looking at Riddle. Therefore, Hermione missed the signs of alarm that were visible on his face for only a split-second when she murmured, more to herself than to Tom Riddle: 'Don't know. But that was you, wasn't it?'

The rest of the hour the two of them remained quietly, while they each read in their book and took notes. When it was time to leave, they parted ways immediately after exiting the Room of Requirement in a thorough tense silence. Knowing she had to get up real early the next morning, Hermione hurried back to her dormitory to get to bed quickly and sleep. What Riddle was planning to do really didn't concern her in the slightest, as long as he was doing it far, far away from her.

So the next morning, Hermione stood up at a ghastly early time and went to the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid. She had been right in her assumption that Hagrid would know where to look for the unicorns and they found a couple of unicorns by a pool in less than fifteen minutes after entering the Forest. Hermione knew for sure she would have never accomplished that on her own. They approached the unicorns carefully. Hermione remembered everything Professor Hagrid and Professor Grubbly-Plank had shared with her on unicorns during her fifth year, and so she proceeded as such. But she was in for quite a shock, because the unicorns did not want her to touch them anymore, and almost all of them ran off.

Fortunately, Hagrid was able to halt a male one, which was exactly the one whose blood Hermione needed. While Hagrid started to communicate with him, he waved with his hand to Hermione to back off quickly, since the unicorn still wanted nothing to do with her. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that she had Tom Riddle to thank for this, or rather the insipid Blood-Bond she was now stuck with. But in the end, everything turned out alright, since the unicorn gave Hagrid permission to extract a bit of its blood. It wasn't much that it donated, but Hermione only needed one drop anyway.

She thanked Hagrid sincerely and finished her potion immediately afterwards. It turned into a bright yellow colour upon adding the blood, as it was supposed to, according to Helga's writings. And she was glancing back and forth from the pieces of parchment to the finished potion, checking everything one last time, as she always did, when it happened… The two pieces of parchment merely vanished into thin air, like they had never been there in the first place. Hermione tried everything she could think of to make them reappear, but in the end she had to accept her defeat. So she picked up an empty flask, filled it with the potion and put it inside her beaded bag. However, the thought of the strange pages never left her mind, though she never found them again.

After that, several days passed unnoticeable. Hermione and Tom would, every now and then, reconvene in the Room of Requirement and read one chapter, after which they would take turns in telling the other what they just read. It probably would have been far more efficient had they each first read the entire book, before trying to explain to the other what they had just read, because that would, undoubtedly, have saved them from a lot of seemingly endless discussions concerning the true meaning of the wording in the volumes. However, since both of them were still slightly suspicious of the other's motives and plans, they had chosen for this rather inconvenient and timely method. Although a casual, unknowing observer might have thought they were actually enjoying the arguments, they would say that anyone, who knew them, would know better than to think something that ridiculous.

However, even though progress was being made with the two books from Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin, there appeared to be no sign of Ravenclaw's and Hufflepuff's volume. Both Ernest Lovegood and Pomona Sprout had searched their respected Houses and had come up empty-handed. Augusta and Minerva had been keeping a solid eye on Riddle and his activities, and they had, independently from each other, come to the conclusion that he was unaware of the two other volumes. Rubeus Hagrid had been all over the castle trying to find some lead on either the two books or Tom Riddle's plans. And if that turned out to be a useless endeavour, then Hagrid was always perfect in hindering some teenage Death Eater in his activities, since his partly giant blood gave him some protection from most of the curses.

But the frustrating truth remained that both Mind over Matter and Love of Mankind were very much nowhere to be found. And that was eating Hermione Granger up alive. She had obtained a large amount of knowledge about the one volume that she had assumed would be the most trying for her to get. And even though she still had no idea how she ever was going to be able to, actually, activate and truly master it, since it most annoyingly required the use of Parseltongue, she was beginning to understand the foundations of Salazar's method in Time-Travelling.

And she was also worried that the person, who would be able to activate it, was beginning to grasp these basics as well. How was she supposed to terminate the powers of all the books, if she needed them all placed together and she could not find the other two? And how was she ever going to be able to do that, once Riddle would start travelling through time, taking the book from Salazar with him?

And there was still the aspect of the Blood-Binding Charm. She needed to find a way out from underneath it, because even though the hold Riddle had over her was not as great as he had wanted it to be, due to his beloved ancestor, she still felt it was much more preferable if he had no hold over her at all. But she had not been able to obtain the books she needed from the library yet. And she wasn't even sure the information could be found at Hogwarts, since it was some pretty serious Dark Arts stuff to begin with.

And what she did not understand was why Godric's Room had not provided her with an answer to her Blood-Binding predicament. The Room was supposed to provide her with the solutions to her problems. That was the basic underlying thought she had when the Room had been created. And from reading the theory in Infinity in Space, she had understood that the answer should have been provided in said Room, but she had not found it.

Sure, there were books on the shelves about these kinds of charms, and she had read them thoroughly after her experience with Tom Riddle. She had been certain that Minerva must have overlooked something, but she was found mistaken. Minerva had read the books correctly and there was nothing in them that would assist her in breaking said Binding. It was making her feel rather hopeless.

And so here she was, wandering the corridors of Hogwarts with her beaded bag that she had brought along for no reason at all, when she suddenly felt a distinctive pressure to move to the Astronomy Tower. Hermione had no idea why, but she just knew she had to go there. When she arrived at the bottom of the tower, her urge to go upstairs increased severely. She ran up the steep spiral staircase, pulled on the heavy iron ring to open the door at the top of the tower that let outside, and heard the familiar hissing sounds coming from someone, who was speaking Parseltongue, before she moved outside on the crenellated ramparts and received the shock of a lifetime.

There stood Tom Riddle. He was completely dressed for a trip outside. Salazar's book was in his leather gloved hand, and she saw the familiar silvery glow beginning to emanate … Riddle was smirking at her … making a waving motion with his hand … as to say goodbye to her.

'Over my dead body,' Hermione thought, and she took one big, humongous leap…

Her arms landed just around his neck when there was a silvery flash, and they were both gone.


	11. Chapter 11

**Masters of Manipulation**

**Chapter eleven**

A silver dash, a crash, and Hermione felt the same sickening feeling she had not so long ago, upon arriving at Hogwarts in Tom Riddle's day and age. She pushed herself up from the wet pavement she was currently lying on, and tried to take in her surroundings. It was definitely somewhere outside. The harsh wind told her that much, because it was cold, wet, windy and dark. Crouched on all fours, she started to throw up like she had done before after travelling through time with that damn book.

'Where is it anyway? And where is Riddle?' she thought.

Hermione looked up, in between puking, and saw a very pleasurable sight. Tom Riddle was upright, but barely. He was hanging in the dark hedge right next to her, holding on to the branches for support, and he was making similar sounds as Hermione was a few seconds ago. Hermione had never been one to glee at another person's discomfort, but she felt it was always a good time to learn new ways. She took tremendous pleasure out of the fact that Riddle wasn't feeling any better either, when she saw him, suddenly, get hit by a stunning spell and crash to the floor. She pulled out her wand, but the world was moving again. Still, she was able to point the wand behind her and without thinking, without seeing at who she was aiming, Hermione yelled: 'Stupefy'.

She heard a gong-like sound, then something hit her dead on and she passed out. When she came to, she heard a familiar voice saying: 'Drink, it will help.'

'Rid..'

A bottle was placed against her lips and the fluid had already been poured into her mouth before she could finish a word. She tasted the familiar bitterness of the Invigoration Draught and swallowed it before she was planning to scold Tom Riddle from here to eternity for landing her "Godric knows where". Her blurry vision returned to normal and she stared right into a pair of gleaming red eyes, whose pupils were vertical. His head was covered by the black hood he was wearing, but his face was so pale that he seemed to emit a pearly glow and she could make out his features: snake-like, with slits for nostrils and a very thin-lipped mouth. Dead frightened, Hermione stared into the face of Lord Voldemort; a much older version than the one she had been travelling with.

'This is not a good thing,' she thought.

And she would have tried to move away from him, were it not for her position on the wet ground, sitting, leaning her back against a very solid tree, which did not approve of any movement backwards. Besides, Voldemort was holding onto her arm, and he was way too close for comfort. Squatting right in front of her, he tossed the empty bottle that had contained the Invigoration Draught back into her beaded bag. His eyes darted away from the bag and back towards her.

'Don't be afraid. I'm not here to hurt you.' His high, cold voice told her.

Now, she noticed it had gone up an octave or two since his teen years. Hermione said nothing. She was too scared to do anything, too scared to move, speak, breathe, draw her wand; anything.

'I don't recommend you remain on the cold grounds either.' Voldemort's head swivelled sideways, examining the grounds around them. 'You might catch pneumonia.'

And he went on to stand up for himself, pulling up Hermione by her arm along with him. Her eyes fell on a dark figure lying unconscious on the ground a few feet away from her; the figure of Tom Riddle. Hermione frowned.

'This cannot be. Time should act now to correct the paradox,' she thought.

'The Book protects the bearer against temporal paradoxes,' said Voldemort to her unasked question.

'But why would he stun himself, and then, let him lay there?' Hermione thought, startled, still watching the unconscious version of Riddle.

Voldemort followed her surprised gaze. 'Oh, don't worry, he'll be fine,' Voldemort said, amused. 'I should know. I'm him after all.

Hermione was taken aback by Voldemort's statement. She wasn't worried about bloody Tom Riddle. He could drop dead for all she cared. Come to think of it… that sounded like a wonderful idea to her. So where on earth did _he_ get the idea she gave a damn? Her fear instantly replaced by feelings of anger, she glared in fury at the Dark Lord. Only to see the corners of his mouth twitching slightly upwards and his scarlet eyes sparkling with something she could not quite place. Her hand moved towards her pocket, but she halted the motion when he merely shook his head.

'I don't want to hex you, Hermione, but I will…'

He let go of her upper arm, and moved a step backwards, eyeing her intently. For a few seconds, they were staring at each other, when he pulled something out of his robe and stretched his hand out towards her. Hermione gave the jar in his hand a curious glance.

'Take it,' he said, 'you'll be in need of it someday.'

Their fingertips touched when she accepted the jar from him, and she noted that he held onto it just a little bit longer than necessary, before letting go. Hermione looked at the jar. It had no label, no writings were on it. What could be in there? And when would she be needing this, whatever it was?

'You'll know,' he added, upon seeing her confused face.

Hermione looked at him questioningly, but her expression was quickly shifting to shock and fear, and she jumped back into the tree when he swiftly moved towards her. His robes bellowing in the wind, he halted upon seeing her angst. A sigh escaped his lips. Hermione looked up at him, his face only inches away from hers, and she was anxiously staring into those crimson, unreadable eyes of his. She felt how his hand caressed her hair for a moment and he cupped her face, before speaking to her in a soft voice.

'I enabled the book to transport you, and him over there, back from where you came. All you have to do is hold onto it and think: _I have to get back.'_ He let go of her face and nodded to himself with his head.'And tell him to stop wasting his precious time meddling in events he has no control over.' Lord Voldemort stepped away from her. 'Do not interfere, Hermione,' he added, warningly.

And he turned and strode away. She heard a soft creaking noise come from the gate beside her when he abandoned the street she was in. She closed her eyes, and took a large breath.

'What had just happened?' she thought, and she picked up her beaded bag, while glancing back and forth at the dark street she was in. 'Where and when am I?'

And then… she knew. She recognised the cottage across the street and she heard the screams coming from behind her.

' _Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!'_

Hermione stood there in horror. This could not be. A high-pitched laugh, two words spoken, and green light flooded the street. And she did not know why she did it. She knew not to interfere; she knew bad things happen to people who mess around with time, but she turned and ran through the gate, towards the house, towards Harry. Upon entering the cramped hallway, she saw the body of James Potter lying dead on the floor. He resembled her Harry so much that it felt like a bad omen. And she heard the sounds coming from upstairs.

' _Stand aside – stand aside, girl'_

She started to run to the staircase. Green light flashed around her and she knew Lily Potter had died, but she ran up the stairs nevertheless. A strange feeling of urgency was pushing her forward. She arrived at the landing, confused. Everything was lighted and there were four doors standing ajar. Which way? And she heard the cries of a baby. To her left!

' _Avada Kedavra!'_

The green light blinded her as she stood in the doorway and everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. For a second she thought she saw a brush of black vapour accompanying the Killing Curse on its path. But she blinked and the next thing she saw was the green jet hit baby Harry and bounce back, hitting Voldemort and the wall behind him, blasting it out of the way. She dove to the side to avoid the impact herself, and then it was silent.

Baby Harry started screaming, and she looked up and saw black vapour emerging from the rubble, gliding together.

'My bag! I need the potion! Now!' Hermione thought panicking, while tossing a scorched teddy-bear with one leg to the side.

She found the bag. Hermione looked up and saw Voldemort's soul speeding towards Harry.

'Oh no, you don't,' she said through gritted teeth.

And in one rush of utter madness, she threw the small yellow bottle towards the cot. It broke and a blinding white light surrounded baby Harry, making it impossible for Voldemort to take possession of the boy's body. It wasn't until she saw the black vapour moving backward, terrified of the light, that she realised she had made one tiny miscalculation.

'I should have made enough to fill two flasks!' she thought horrified.

She turned around and started climbing over the rubble to reach the hallway, but she did not make it. Hermione looked over her shoulder. She saw the vapour had turned and Voldemort was now moving towards her with incredible speed. Hermione slid down onto the floor, remembering how it had felt the first time this had happened, and she closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable impact … that did not come. Relieved, she opened her eyes and almost closed them right back again in fear, when she noticed the vapour was hovering right in front of her, around her, and then, it moved off, through the damaged house, away into the night sky.

Hermione sat there for awhile, panting, trying to calm herself, to stop her heart from racing like crazy, when she heard crying. It was Harry. She stood up and walked over the debris towards the still intact cot. He had a huge gaping wound on his forehead that was bleeding severely. Hermione healed it magically, but she knew a scar shaped like a lighting bolt would remain. She picked up baby Harry and started rocking him.

'Shh, it's going to be alright. You're going to be alright,' she whispered in a comforting, soft tone to him.

And she remembered a lullaby her mother had always sung to her when she was little. So she softly sang it to Harry, walking across the damaged room, gently rocking him, making sure he would not see his dead mother underneath the rubble to her right. Hermione noticed how much Lily resembled Ginny, or was it the other way around? They had the same long red hair and pretty features. And the thought of Ginny lying dead on the floor squashed by debris was too much for Hermione to cope, so she averted her eyes from the scene.

'Let's get out of here, Harry. Don't you agree?' she said.

Hermione looked at the baby and saw that his tiny hands were reaching into the air, trying to grab a lock of her hair that was dangling in front of him. She smiled at him and Harry crowed.

'See, I knew you'd agree with me,' Hermione said nicely, and she pulled out her wand and Apparated back to the street.

Hermione, then, pushed the tip of her wand to her head and sent her Patronus to Albus Dumbledore to inform him of the attack on the Potters. She saw her otter speed off into the street and pass an unconscious body.

'Damn, I forgot all about him.' She told the baby in a cheery voice. 'Let's kick his arse. Do you want to do the honours or should I?'

'Accio Eternity in Time, Accio Tom Riddle's wand,' Hermione said, and book plus wand flew into her outstretched hand. She stuffed it in her beaded bag, before walking over to Tom Riddle. She pointed her wand at the still motionless body and said to Harry: 'Are you sure? He is nice and quiet this way, and no doubt, he will start being himself again once we wake him.'

The baby made a few vague noises, and Hermione raised her shoulders at Harry.

'Alright, as long as you remember that I told you so.' She hopped him over to her other arm, and cast the spell. 'Rennervate.'

Hermione turned around and walked to and fro on the street. She was completely ignoring Tom Riddle, who was slowly crawling back to his feet, dazed. And she kept chattering with baby Harry.

'I've contacted Professor Dumbledore and he will send Rubeus Hagrid over here. You'll like him, he's our friend,' she said. The latter words were spoken somewhat painfully, because baby Harry had finally got a hold of a tuft of her hair and was pulling on it.

'What's that?' an annoyed voice asked, looking at Hermione and baby Harry in disgust.

'That, Tom Riddle, is what we humans call a baby,' Hermione said dryly, rocking Harry.

He rolled his eyes. 'I know what it is, but what are you doing with it?'

'Holding him,' Hermione responded cheerfully to baby Harry, while ignoring Tom, knowing she was aggravating the crap out of him.

Tom Riddle turned around and saw the Potter House in ruins. His face frowned, his eyes darkened, he turned towards Hermione and Harry, and his hand flashed into his pocket, but there was nothing there.

'I don't think so, Riddle. You've done enough damage tonight,' Hermione said sharply.

'Where is my wand? Give me back my wand, Evans.'

Now, Hermione rolled her eyes.

'Sure, no problem…,' she said sarcastically.

Tom took a step in her direction, and she raised her wand at him.

'I would not do that if I were you, Riddle. I'm the one holding a wand here. And that pavement is awfully wet and cold. Now, we will wait, until Hagrid gets here and takes Harry with him, and then, we can go home. Is that clear, Riddle?' Hermione asked menacingly.

He merely glared at her in fury.

'Good, I'm glad we're in agreement here,' she said mockingly.

'Ouch, Harry, let go, will you sweetie?' Hermione said, in an upbeat high tone. She tried unravelling his little fingers from her hair, but he only grabbed a new tuft of it.

'Damn,' she swore, and pushed Harry into Riddle's arms. 'Hold on, will you. Drop him and I'll hurt you,' she added threateningly.

It was an utterly ridiculous sight. One of those, you wished you had taken a picture from for posterity. Tom Riddle was holding on to baby Harry underneath the baby's armpits, while he stretched out his arms as far away from himself as humanly possible, so the baby would not touch his body. And all of this was accompanied by a disgusted look on his face.

'Will you get a move on with whatever it is your doing, Evans?' Tom said annoyed, because baby Harry was now spraying spit at him.

Baby Harry started wining. Hermione looked up. She was ruffling through her bag.

'You're scaring him,' she said, eyeing Tom warningly upon seeing the irritated expression on his face. 'Try rocking him a bit. Oh, and he likes it when someone sings him a lullaby,' she added deviously, returning her attention back to her beaded bag, hiding her amusement at his flustered face.

'He probably is glad he's wearing gloves that way he won't, actually, have to touch the baby for real,' Hermione thought, rolling her eyes at that thought.

She finally pulled the hairpin out of her bag and placed it in her hair. Riddle quickly pushed baby Harry back into her arms…

'Crack.'

Dumbledore was holding onto Hagrid, and he had Apparated them both into the street before the Potter's House. His light blue eyes flew sharply over the scene before him. Hermione, holding on to baby Harry, who was happy to be back in a couple of comforting arms and was now pulling on her Slytherin scarf; Tom, who was standing next to her, looking extremely aggravated; and the house that had clearly seen a battle.

'James and Lily?' Dumbledore asked shortly.

Hermione shook her head. Dumbledore eyed Tom for a moment, and gestured Hermione to follow him, but Hagrid finally seemed to realise Hermione's shaking meant that Lily and James were dead, and he let out a shout of despair and flung himself at Tom.

'Hagrid! No!' Hermione yelled.

She saw the telltale red flash fly through Tom's alarmed eyes when Hagrid wrapped his hands around his neck, and they both plummeted to the ground. Hagrid landed right on top of the, now most likely completely crushed, Slytherin, who was pretty much defenceless without his wand. But Dumbledore had already drawn his wand, and with one simple flick of it, Hagrid was pulled off the now very dishevelled looking Head Boy and landed with a crash a few feet away.

'Hagrid!' Hermione shouted, shocked that Dumbledore would just toss him around like that, and she ran towards him.

'Are you all right?' she asked concerned, while rocking baby Harry, who was now testing whether her scarf would taste nice. Apparently, it did.

Rubeus Hagrid smiled at her weakly and scrambled back onto his feet. Hermione noticed Dumbledore was checking whether Riddle was still in one piece, which was not appreciated at all by the party being checked upon. Hermione sighed in annoyance at that visual, and she said softly to Hagrid, while turning her attention to Harry: 'He is so little. It just isn't fair.'

'We'll look after Harry, Hermione. He'll be all right,' Hagrid said, giving her a concerned look. 'You, on the other hand, Hermione, you need to avoid...'

'Hagrid!' Dumbledore's strict voice interrupted Hagrid, and he was now staring straight at him. There was no twinkle in his blue eyes anymore.

'Rubeus. Why don't you take Harry from Hermione, and go wait with him on the lawn for a moment. I'll be right there.'

And Dumbledore kept looking at them, until Hagrid had taken Harry, very gently, from Hermione's arms and had left. Hermione had kissed baby Harry on his forehead and waved him goodbye, donating her scarf which he would not let go off.

'Tom, I think it would be best if you waited on that bench for a moment.' Dumbledore gestured to the seating across the street. 'You and Hermione can go back from where you came after I've heard from her exactly what has transpired here.'

Tom did not respond verbally to Dumbledore's suggestion, but merely turned and marched away, with firm strides, obviously furious. Dumbledore looked at his retreating back for a moment, and then, he looked at Hermione, concerned.

'Tell me everything,' he said.

And she did. Dumbledore listened carefully without interrupting her, but she did notice his eyes changed in expression when she told him certain parts of her story. Only she wasn't sure whether it was for her benefit or not. She kept wondering what it could have been that Hagrid had wanted to tell her, and on top of that Harry's words about Dumbledore started going through her mind again.

' _This isn't love, the mess he left me in. He shared a damn sight more of what he was really thinking with Gellert Grindelwald than he ever shared with me.'_

' _Look at what he asked from me, Hermione! Risk your life, Harry! And again! And again!'_

Harry. She had not been able to stop Voldemort from killing his parents, and now he would be send away to the Dursley's, who would abuse him. The thought saddened her sincerely.

'You did everything right, Miss Granger. Remember that,' Dumbledore said.

'But his parents are dead, and if I would have realised sooner, I might have…'

'This is how it was supposed to be, Miss Granger. You and I both know that, and from what you've told me, it seems Voldemort has figured that out as well. Otherwise he would not have come here tonight.'

'What,' Hermione said, stunned. 'He knew this would be his downfall, and still went, but…'

'You have a job to do, I believe, Miss Granger. Perhaps one given to you by the very Founders of Hogwarts?' Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling brightly at her. He held up his hand before she could respond, stopping her from speaking up.

'I'd like to take a look at that jar though, before you go,' he said, and held out his hand.

Hermione looked at him. That man always knew everything. 'But he is not sharing,' a little nagging voice told her inside her head. How could he have known about her mission? It was weird.

She handed Dumbledore the jar, despite everything else, she was still somewhat relieved he would check it out for her. Dumbledore opened it, and eyed the ointment for a moment. Hermione leaned forward to see for herself. It was a dark-brown ointment and it smelled incredibly bad. Hermione was shocked to see Dumbledore was practically sticking his nose in there. Surely, that smell could be detected from miles away? Dumbledore finally nodded, closed the jar and gave it back to her. Hermione eyed him questioningly.

'You'll be in need of that in the future, or rather the past,' he added puzzling.

Hermione was now getting a bit aggravated. That was the same bloody thing Voldemort had said. Surely, Professor Dumbledore could be a bit more forthcoming to her.

'Professor, what…'

'I'm sorry Hermione. You know the rules. Now, you and Tom better get going before the people from the ministry get here and start asking questions.'

And on that note, he turned and walked away towards Hagrid. Hermione watched him for a moment, slightly irritated, remembering Harry's angry words.

' _And don't expect me to explain everything to you. Never the whole truth. Never.'_

Hermione sighed and crossed the street on her way back to a very pissed off Tom Marvolo Riddle, who had, to her surprise, indeed made himself somewhat comfortable on the bench. But even though his posture appeared to be calm and relaxed for the casual observer, his eyes told a different story. They said it all. He was on the verge of exploding. Hermione had been around him long enough to detect these minor cracks in his façade. She sat down next to him, noticing he had taken off his black leather gloves. Apparently, they had torn apart in the struggle with Hagrid, and without a wand he had not been able to mend them.

'We better get going; the Aurors are going to be here soon,' she said quietly, hoping not to be the trigger of the obvious rage that was building up inside of him.

'Did the old blabbering coot tell you we should go?' Tom said menacingly.

Now, she was certain he was furious. That tone said it all. Hermione ignored the remarks about Albus Dumbledore, since she wasn't too keen on the man herself right now, and she gave him quite a shocking answer.

'You did, actually, or rather your older version did,' Hermione said. 'You also told me to say that you should stop wasting your time meddling in events you have no control over.'

A crack came from across the street and Hermione noticed Dumbledore had vanished. Hagrid was eyeing them, and he took a hold of baby Harry's hand and started waving with it towards Hermione. Tom growled at the sight of it, but Hermione waved back, smilingly.

And then, it happened. Hermione was waving at Harry when, suddenly, a deafening roar approached them, a large motorbike landed in the street before the Potter House, and Hermione hardly recognised the driver that was on it. He was so young, so innocent, so untainted, so very much alive…

Sirius Black jumped from his bike, letting it drop on the sidewalk with a crash and he ran towards the house screaming James's name. And Hagrid shouted out after him, but Sirius did not even hear. He kept running, and Hagrid followed him, into the house…

And Hermione closed her eyes when she heard the desperate, chilling scream indicating Sirius had found his best friend's body. Hermione never even noticed she had somehow made it to a standing position. She was almost ready to run in after Harry's godfather, when Tom Riddle flung his arms around her and wrestled her wand from her hand.

'Time to finish off Potter, once and for all,' he said with a vicious undertone in his voice, holding her tightly, pressing her own wand in her throat.

'I have to get back,' Hermione said softly.

And Riddle let out a furious scream when the silvery dash flew around them, and Salazar Slytherin's lifelong achievement transported them back to 1944.


	12. Chapter 12

**Masters of Manipulation**

**Chapter twelve**

And so they arrived, back from where and when they came, sent home by the Dark Lord himself. Only his current persona did not seem at all pleased about that. Tom Riddle was considerably pissed off, and he looked like he definitely needed someone to vent his anger at. Unfortunately for him, he had not swallowed any Invigoration Draught in 1981. And when he raised his wand with the intention to hex Hermione Granger to hell and back again, the world started spinning uncontrollably, his vision went blurry, and he almost crashed to the floor, but he was able to grab a hold of the statue beside him to prevent that humiliating experience from happening. So here he was, desperately trying to hold on to some form of dignity, while his nausea commanded another puking session of his already completely emptied stomach.

'You should drink this. It helps,' Hermione said calmly.

He snatched the bottle that was held out before him from her hand.

'You're welcome,' Hermione answered ironically to the non-offered thank you, wondering why at all she was sacrificing her last bottle of Invigoration Draught to Mister Nice over there, when she noticed he was looking at it suspiciously.

'It's not poisonous,' Hermione said, amused by the thought.

She had already scrambled back to her feet, feeling a lot less bad than the two previous times she had travelled this way. And she was eyeing her surroundings curiously. They had not re-entered at the Astronomy Tower, but they were undoubtedly in Hogwarts. She saw the Slytherin banner that hang on the wall. She noticed the statue of a snake Riddle was holding on to, but Hermione did not recognise this underground passageway.

' _I enabled the book to transport you, and him over there, back from where you came.'_

'Lying piece of shit,' she thought, aggravated. 'This better be 1944 or I might just rethink my options and make a more distinct alteration in the time-line all together.'

She pulled out Tom's wand from her beaded bag and turned just on time to see that he had decided the potion was safe to take and had just swallowed it whole. Hermione pushed Tom's wand in his chest and said dryly: 'you don't mind if I take that one, do you?'

She snatched her wand out of his hand with a delightful feeling of relieve. There, she was safe for now.

Tom, however, wasn't paying attention to her "wand snatching routine". He was examining the passageway they were in and he was smirking about something. To Hermione's surprise he made no comment about her disarming him, but he simply looked at the snake statue with a pleased expression on his face, and he started leaning against the wall beside it, crossing his arms over each other and placing one foot on the base of the statue, obviously waiting for her to make the first move, like she hadn't already made it.

'What's so funny, Riddle?'

Mockingly, he raised his eyebrows at her and replied snorting: 'Which way, Evans? Left or right?'

Hermione's eyes darted the strange corridor. For someone who had just lost his only means of defence, again, she felt Riddle was enjoying himself way too much.

'Not that it matters much which way you pick,' he snickered. 'Both ways lead to the exact same … uh… chamber,' and his smile broadened.

Hermione felt the bones in her body freeze up. She couldn't be. Her head swept sideways to check the environment, but his next comment pretty much confirmed her worst fears.

'Are you sure it's wise for you to _eye_ the corridor?' Tom asked, amused.

He was still leaning casually against the wall, demonstrating that he, at least, had not a single concern in this world. And he stretched out his hand, waiting for her to give him his wand back.

Hermione, on the other hand, had no intention to comply with that demand. And she was thinking about everything Harry, Ron and Ginny had told her about the Chamber of Secrets and the passageways to it. She couldn't recall any banners or snake statues in corridors, so perhaps this was an area they had not ventured into. Or perhaps Harry had been too busy with activities as: getting to Ginny, battling with Riddle and ditching a fifty feet Basilisk. Perhaps he had not cared too much about his surroundings at the time.

She was still wondering where to go from here when Tom sighed, because Hermione didn't hand over his wand, and he hissed shortly towards the snake statue. The green emeralds that were posing as the eyes were sparking brightly for a moment and somewhere in the distance a huge green animal started sliding towards them. Tom pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against, and out of reflex, Hermione jumped backwards, raising her wand.

'Don't be a fool, Granger. You know you can't do anything to me. Right now, I'm the only one here capable of preventing that Basilisk from killing you.'

'But surely that thing couldn't get to her,' Hermione thought fearful, 'after all it was locked up inside the statue of Salazar Slytherin.'

'We are inside the statue of Salazar Slytherin,' said Tom, like he had just read her mind.

That took away the last shred of hope from Hermione's mind at about the same time as she heard it. Even if she hadn't seen the beast before, the muffled sounds alone would have told her something humongous was slithering in the darkness of the passageway, and it obviously was approaching their position around the corner. Riddle took another step in her direction and Hermione backed away into the wall, still pointing her wand straight at him. She was beginning to panic now.

Quickly, her analytic mind went over everything she remembered that could possibly kill a Basilisk. The crowing of a rooster, the sword of Gryffindor, Harry Potter yielding that sword, and that was basically it. No spell or killing curse would take effect upon the magical creature, and only a Parselmouth could control it. Only he could control it. She was staring into his dark eyes when his hand fell upon hers and he calmly directed her wand away from his chest.

'Put that away. You won't be needing it,' he softly said, before reaching out into her pocket to retrieve his own wand.

A large shadow fell into the corridor.

'Close your eyes.'

And Hermione complied, very much aware of her own vulnerability in that moment. She heard him hiss a couple of words in Parseltongue, and she could sense the Basilisk curling up around them.

'You can open them now. I told it not to look at you without my specific say so. Just make sure you do not make any sudden moves,' said Tom warningly.

Hermione opened her eyes, and saw two dark eyes stare right into her brown ones. The Basilisk was indeed curled up all around them, blocking every possible escape route with its large, poisonous green body. Its head was facing the wall opposite to the one Hermione was standing pressed against. She hadn't even realised she had pushed herself into that wall so hard out of sheer angst.

'Now, this is how things are going to go…' Riddle started.

And a few minutes later Hermione was walking through the many corridors inside the statue with her eyes closed, feeling utterly ridiculous at being directed through them by Tom Riddle, who was holding on to her shoulders, pushing her in the right direction. Or so that's what he told her. She wasn't so sure anymore after she got the distinct impression that they were moving around in circles. At one point she noticed they passed the Basilisk again when her hand slightly brushed something muscular and smooth.

'Riddle, will you stop fooling around in these passageways. You're making me dizzy and I'm pretty sure you have nothing to worry about, because I sincerely doubt I'll ever be tempted in coming back here again,' Hermione said, irritated.

'Oh, I don't know, Hermione,' Riddle said, cheerful. 'You can be incredibly stubborn when you think something needs done, even if it's risky and foolish. So I rather not take the chance. Besides, we're almost there.'

He halted her forward motion. Another set of hissing, and a rumbling sound reached her ears. They stood still until everything was quiet again and he pushed her forward. Hermione tripped over the steps, whose existence Tom conveniently forgot to mention, and she said a loud swearword not worthy of repeating.

'You can open your eyes now.'

'Finally,' Hermione thought, relieved this show was over and done with.

Surprised, she noticed that they weren't in the girl's bathroom on the second floor. And now that she thought about it, they hadn't flown up some pipe at all. She looked around the place they were in curiously. It was a simple study chamber decorated in Slytherin colours. She had never seen anything like it before.

'Are you coming?' Riddle said, standing in the doorway. 'We still need to find out _when_ we are.'

'All right, Mister Suddenly Impatient,' Hermione murmured.

And she stepped outside to see she was on the seventh floor right outside the Room of Requirement. How had they got here? She didn't remember any staircases or anything else that moved upward. Riddle noticed her confusing and smirked.

'Did you really think I'd go in and out of the Chamber by means of that disgusting pipe?' he said condescendingly.

Hermione ignored the remark, and began passing the hidden door, until Riddle stopped her. 'What are you doing, Evans?' he asked in a hushed tone of voice.

'Storing away this book for safe keeping,' Hermione answered, while pointing at her beaded bag.

'Don't you think it would be smarter to do that when we're certain we arrived on the right date?'

'What might be a right date for you, Riddle, might not necessarily be a right date for me,' said Hermione, for the sake of disagreeing, but she did leave Eternity in Time inside her bag and walked away from the Room of Requirement towards the staircases.

The castle was quiet. They were not passed by a single soul on their way down. Pringle and his prying nose was nowhere to be seen, and Peeves, who always was around when students were trying to break the rules, was also missing in action. When they reached ground-level, they eyed each other somewhat apprehensively. It was way too silent. Where was everybody? Riddle walked towards the Great Hall and opened the door to it. Hermione was relieved to see there was one student there, eating a sandwich on his own.

'Eh, you!' Riddle said.

The Hufflepuff nearly choked on his sandwich and jumped up in shock from the sudden noise that Riddle's voice created in the stillness of the Hall. Hermione hit Tom on his arm.

'There is no need to frighten him,' she said bossy.

'I was just calling out, nothing more. I can't help it, if he is a bit of a weasel,' Tom sneered, while rubbing his upper arm.

Hermione was eyeing this with a lot of amusement. 'Bit of a baby, are we?'

'Just so you know, Evans, you have a very nasty punch.'

'Ron never complained about it.'

And she walked towards the boy at the Hufflepuff table, who was watching them both apprehensively. 'Probably one of the second year's, at most,' Hermione guessed silently.

'Could you tell us what day it is?' Hermione asked politely.

The boy was staring at her with fearful eyes and he did not respond at all. Hermione realised that even as a Prefect she had never got this kind of reaction out of any of the junior schoolchildren when she was still wearing Gryffindor colours. No one had ever been frightened to speak to her. Apparently, the fact that she now wore a green and silver tie was enough to turn someone into a mute around her. Riddle started sighing impatiently, but he jumped out of Hermione's punching range when he noticed, she had narrowed her eyes at him. Hermione turned her head back to the boy at the Hufflepuff table and said: 'I'd like to know the exact date, please?'

A very squeaky voice answered her. 'December fourth.'

Hermione nodded imploringly, while Tom rolled his eyes.

'1944,' the boy added, glancing nervously in Tom's direction.

'Well, hallelujah, that must have been really hard work. I guess it's perfectly clear why you're in Hufflepuff. I suggest you take a nap now,' Tom sneered to the boy.

And when the boy did not move immediately, Tom snarled: 'I said, now! Get out, move, leave us intelligent beings alo… Ouch…'

And Riddle was rubbing his arm again, while the boy stumbled out of the Great hall in a hurry. Hermione shook her head and was about to turn around and leave the Great Hall to bring Salazar's book back to the Room of Requirement, when Tom grabbed her arm.

'What?' she snapped.

'Look,' Riddle said, puzzled.

Hermione turned and followed his gaze. At the end of it, she saw the door in the wall of the Great Hall; a door that had never been there; a door that wasn't supposed to be there. They shared a surprised glance, before walking over and stopping in front of it. Tom grabbed the doorknob and opened this new door, so they could enter the grand facility unknown to them both.

'What for Salazar's sake?' muttered Tom.

Hermione's jaw dropped and she was lost for words. She had never seen this grand room before in all her lifetime at Hogwarts, and she was certain she would have remembered if there had been one. Tom was looking equally lost. He was walking to the tables at the other end of the clearing in the centre as if that would provide some answer to why this place was suddenly here.

'What are you two doing here? The ballroom is off limits when there are no events taking place,' Lucretia Black spoke behind them.

Hermione and Tom turned to face Lucretia, who stood in the doorway.

'The what?' Tom asked, baffled.

'The ballroom,' Lucretia said impatient, now looking at him like he was slightly insane.

'Hogwarts doesn't have a ballroom,' Hermione stated.

'Sure, it does. We hold the tournament here and the annual Dance.'

'The What?!' Two voices spoke shocked.

Lucretia was now eyeing them like they both had turned mental. 'The Dance, the Dance, surely you remember Tom,' she said teasingly. 'Last year you had so much fun tormenting Augusta.'

Tom looked lost for words. His eyes went to Hermione for support, but clearly there wasn't any coming, because she too seemed utterly speechless.

'What's the matter with you both?' Lucretia asked, bemused.

'There are no annual dances at Hogwarts,' Hermione said weakly.

Tom nodded his head firmly in affirmation. The thought alone seemed to appal him severely.

'Of course there are. I guess they don't do dances at Durmstrang?' Lucretia asked rhetorically. 'But here at Hogwarts we have one every year. On the evening before the Christmas vacation starts. I don't know who has forgotten to tell you about them,' and here she was looking accusatory to Tom. 'But you should really check the information that's been given to you. The Dance is kind of a tradition, you know. There are lots and lots of stories about them. I mean it's not like they are the figment of someone's overly imaginative mind.'

'Well, it's not like we need to attend,' Tom said softly, more to himself than to anybody else present.

'But you do,' Lucretia said, amused, 'I know you've been trying to stop this event from taking place this year, Tom, ever since you found out who became Head Girl. But Dippet is far too fond of dancing, so I doubt even you can talk him out of it.'

'What are you blabbering about? And what has McGonagall got to do with any of this?' Tom said, alarmed. And a clear signal of danger became apparent in his voice, while his knuckles turned white from holding on too harshly onto the wand inside his pocket.

Lucretia, subconsciously, took a step backwards and said somewhat timid, yet defiant: 'Look, I don't know what kind of sick game you're trying to pull on me here, since it is obvious that you're very much aware of the fact that the Head Boy has to open the Dance with the Head Girl.'

If Hermione hadn't felt so incredibly sorry for Minerva McGonagall at that very moment, she might have roared with laughter at the sight of Tom Riddle's distressed features. Lucretia seemed to think that now would be a very prudent time to leave, and she quickly fled the ballroom, leaving behind a very bewildered Slytherin Head Boy and a worried Slytherin girl.

'This is our fault,' Hermione muttered, 'clearly this room is here, because of us, because we used the book.'

'Impossible,' Riddle said, annoyed.

'Oh, do enlighten us, common folks,' and she spread her arms out wide in clear mockery, 'with Lord Voldemort's marvellous explanation of all this.'

'We travelled to the future, Evans,' he hissed back angrily. 'Surely, we could not have made this ballroom appear here in 1944, even if we changed something in 1981. I'm certain of that.'

'Oh, you are certain of that,' Hermione said sarcastically. And she hissed the next comments underneath her breath at him angrily, matching his tone exactly. 'Have you read the entire book before you started travelling with it, or did you just skip a couple of pages and went straight to the 'How to Activate this Time-Travel-Device' part?'

The answer to that question was written all over his now flustered face. So Hermione advanced on him and she underlined her next words by poking him furiously in the chest with her index finger. 'Do you even understand half of what Salazar Slytherin wrote down on the pages, or did your arrogant, little mind think it would be irrelevant information as long as the Great Lord Voldemort got what he wanted?'

And she noticed he was barely restraining himself from doing something. He was standing there, rigid. The tension of his muscles was clearly visible, and a predatory glint was eminently present in his eyes. But Hermione felt pretty damn angry herself, and his continued silence to her bold statements made her even more ferocious, so she continued her raving rant.

'HA! But don't take my measly, Mudblood word on it. Feel free to listen to the only voice you deem relevant,' and she started quoting mockingly: _'And tell him to stop wasting his precious time meddling in events he has no control over.'_ She snorted. 'You know, I'm actually beginning to see its relevance. I guess you remembered getting yourself stuck on the inside of a ballroom with a Gryffindor one day due to your own stu…pmmm…'

His mouth was on her mouth. Tom had silenced her in the only way his mind was able to process at that very moment in time. He had grabbed her harshly and pulled her close, kissing her in a manner she had never been kissed before. It was passionate, angry, violent, controlling, like he wanted to devour her completely. His arm was around her waist holding her so tight that she felt he was trying to crush her against him. There was no room to move, and his other hand held on to the back of her head, tilting it slightly, holding it in place so she could not escape him.

And as abruptly as he had initiated the kiss he broke off, pushing her away roughly. They were both panting heavily, not looking at each other. In a swift motion, he quickly whirled away and exited the ballroom, leaving Hermione alone in an utterly distressed and flustered state. And so she remained, standing still for quite some time, trying to process what on earth had just happened. Until the chatters of the other students, pouring into the Great Hall to have breakfast, woke her out of her daze and she left the room as well, knowing for sure she would put as much distance as she possibly could between herself and Tom "bloody" Riddle. In the corner of the ballroom, a small yellow piece of parchment with a black rim stopped glowing and disappeared into thin air, unnoticed by anyone.

So Hermione was wandering the hallways, still in shock, not really clear on where she was going, when she heard her name being called out. She _so_ did not want company right now, but the name-callers were Minerva McGonagall and Ernest Lovegood. And they were quite persistent. They came running towards her down the corridor, both looking very excited about something.

'Ernest did it,' Minerva said panting. 'He found a lead.'

'On what?' Hermione said, still preoccupied with earlier events.

The two looked at each other rather baffled. 'The book of course, Hermione,' Minerva whispered. 'Rowena Ravenclaw's Mind over Matter.'

'Yes,' said Ernest. 'My uncle says that book is linked to the Deathly Hallows.'

That piece of information shook Hermione right out of her pondering on Riddle and his stupefying actions. 'No,' she thought, shocked at hearing those last two words being linked to something she knew existed for real.

'Not here!' Hermione whispered bossily back to them.

And she grabbed the two others and started dragging them alone the fifth floor corridor, desperately trying to recall everything she had said to Harry. She had told Harry to stop delving on those Hallows and concentrate on Horcruxes. She had told him that was the job Dumbledore had sent him out to accomplish. And for the very first time in his life Harry had listened to her advice. What if those Hallows were important? Then it would be her fault that Harry had stopped looking. Roughly, she pulled the now slightly protesting teenagers past the statue of Boris the Bewildered, and took the fourth door on her left into the Prefect's bathroom, bolting it from the inside.

'Now, we can talk,' Hermione said firmly.

'But we have Potions in five minutes,' Minerva said weakly.

'I'm sure Slughorn won't mind if I skip one of his classes,' said Hermione, turning her attention to Ernest Lovegood to ask him about the Deathly Hallows.

But Ernest was already engaged in a conversation with somebody else. He was talking rather screeching to the picture of the flirtatious mermaid on the wall. Hermione was wondering why he was trying to speak Mermish to a painting that was not by far a true representation of the real Merpeople. The mermaid on the wall had more resemblance to the way Muggles viewed them, and therefore, Hermione doubted that she would understand what Ernest was saying. Sure enough, all the painting did was wink at him, but that seemed enough encouragement for Ernest to continue talking.

Sighing, Minerva decided that the fastest way for her to get to Slughorn's class was by making sure Hermione got the information she wanted, so she, quickly, pulled Ernest by his collar and dragged him away from the panting, while telling him sternly to inform Hermione about the Deathly Hallows and Rowena's book.

'Well, are you familiar with the tale of the three brothers?' Ernest started, but he was interrupted by some very loud knocking on the bathroom door. 'You don't think that's…'

However, who Ernest thought it could be remained a secret forever, because a familiar voice shouted from the other side of the door. 'Minerva? Hermione? We know you're in there. We have news.'

It was Augusta Longbottom. Hermione, quickly, undid the bolts on the door and opened it. She pulled Augusta in before noticing she was not alone. Hagrid and Pomona were also there.

'Hurry!' Hermione said with some urgency in her tone of voice, 'before someone notices us.'

After they had also entered, she took one last look at the empty corridor and closed the door, before bolting it again, after which she cast an Imperturbable Charm on it, wondering why she hadn't thought of that sooner. She swept around to face Ernest, but now, four others were hurtled together, waffling through one another.

'No, I'm telling you. It won't work,' Pomona's voice said determined.

'I think it will,' Augusta disagreed.

'We only need a brief distraction.' That was Minerva.

'Dippet will notice.' Ernest had done his input.

'Dippet wouldn't notice if a Hippogriff landed in his room, unless it started to do a two-step,' stated Minerva.

Hermione looked at Hagrid, who seemed to be equally left out on the conversation, and he hoisted his shoulders at her. Hermione coughed loudly. The four of them looked up, still somewhat flustered from their previous debate, and watched Hermione a bit guilty.

'What's going on? What do you need a distraction for?' Hermione asked, confused.

'Nothing,' Minerva said, evasively.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. 'That didn't sound like nothing to me.'

'I know, but… uh… it's best if you stay out of this. It's got nothing to do with you. And you know, with these little meetings you're having, and…' Minerva stopped talking for a moment when she saw the angry look on Hermione's face.

'Well, I'm sorry, Hermione,' Minerva continued, not sounding apologetic at all. 'But I can't have Tom Riddle finding out about this, so you'll have to stay out of it. You two are meeting so often he could get wind of what we're planning, and I don't need him sticking his arrogant nose in it.'

'I would never tell him anything.'

'Not deliberately, no, but he is good in founding out stuff he's not supposed to know.'

It was, suddenly, very silent in the bathroom. Hagrid was shifting uncomfortably because of the arguments, and he broke the silence. 'Could yeh all tell me what we're doin' here?'

Hagrid's question made Hermione remember the Deathly Hallows issue again and she pushed the argument with Minerva aside, determined to talk about that at a later, more appropriate moment.

'You were saying something about the Deathly Hallows and the tale of the three brothers, Ernest,' Hermione said.

'Does everybody here know the tale?' Ernest looked around questioningly.

Everybody nodded, except for Hagrid.

'Surely Rubeus, you must know the tale of the Peverell Brothers. Didn't your father read it to you when you were little?' Augusta asked.

Hagrid looked apologetic at them, and said: 'Could be, don't remember. What's it 'bout?'

'Once upon a time there were three brothers who cheated Death by crossing a river without dying in it. Death was upset about losing their souls and approached them. He told the brothers how clever they had been in evading him and said they could have everything they desired. The oldest brother wanted to be invincible, the second brother wanted something to bring back others who had died, but the youngest brother did not trust Death and he asked for something that would make it impossible for Death to follow him further. And so they received their gifts: the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone and Death's own Cloak.'

'Oh, wait,' Hagrid said, obviously remembering it now Augusta had almost finished the story. 'The two older brothers got killed quickly because of their chosen gifts, but the younger one was able to evade Death, until he had reached an old age and handed the Invisibility Cloak over to his son. Right?' And he looked at Augusta for confirmation, but everybody was nodding affirmatively.

'But I like to know what that fairytale has got to do with our search for the Books?' Augusta asked.

And the doubt in her eyes was obvious when she looked at Ernest. It was clear she was expecting another Martian Statement from him. And surely, she wasn't alone in her expectation. Pomona was also making quite a face at Ernest.

'Well, I spoke with my uncle about the Ravenclaw Book…,' Ernest started.

'Not the uncle who is the editor of that stupid magazine?' Augusta asked, snorting.

'Could we get on with the story?' Minerva said, annoyed. She was checking her watch again, and Hermione knew that their Potions lesson had started fifteen minutes ago.

Ernest continued his statement. 'According to my uncle, legend dictates that Rowena Ravenclaw wrote a book on how to donate true magical powers to inanimate objects. He said that the story of the Peverell Brothers is tightly linked with Miss Ravenclaw's abilities. Ravenclaw was known to create objects with powers far greater than anybody else has ever achieved. The Sorting Hat is a very good example. Everybody knows it was Godric's Hat. But it was Rowena, who charmed it to continue the sorting process after they died. And, of course, there is always her Tiara,' Ernest said.

'Her what?' Hermione said sharply, remembering Voldemort's interest in all items concerning the Founders.

'The missing Ravenclaw Tiara,' Ernest explained, surprised Hermione did not know about such a powerful object. 'It is known to enhance the wearer's wisdom.'

'Since when has this Tiara gone missing?' Hermione asked, excited, thinking she was onto something.

'Oh, it was lost centuries ago. They say Ravenclaw herself misplaced it. Personally, I think the Wrackspurts have something to do with its loss,' Ernest claimed.

Hermione closed her eyes, and Pomona sighed.

'Wrackspurts?' Rubeus asked.

'Yes, they enter into their victim's ear and live of people's brain cells, making their brain go fuzzy. The diadem is said to prevent that, and therefore, it stole their only food supply. So they took it,' Ernest explained to a puzzled Hagrid.

'There is no such thing as a Wrackspurt, Ernest,' Augusta said, tired. 'It's just one other creation of your uncle's overly fantasising mind.'

Ernest just hoisted his shoulders. He was used to people not believing him and did not care much about it.

'Ernest,' Minerva said, encouragingly to him, while eyeing the others disapprovingly. 'Could you continue your story about Ravenclaw and the Hallows.'

Pomona shook her head and Augusta looked with sheer disbelieve at Minerva, while Hagrid was still scanning the room apprehensively for invisible creatures, which entered through your ears and ate from your brain.

'Well, all Hallows are objects with unlimited magical abilities. The Elder Wand is unbeatable, The Resurrection Stone is said to bring people back to life, and Death's own Invisibility Cloak is supposed to have the power to hide people from Death himself,' Ernest continued.

'So you are saying that these objects are created by Rowena Ravenclaw,' Hermione said thoughtful. 'And that Mind over Matter has been the real foundation of the Peverell story.'

'That's one way you can think about it. Others say that Rowena drew her inspiration to write Mind over Matter from these very objects Death had created. No one knows for sure,' Ernest said.

'But this is all nonsense,' Augusta said, irritated. 'It's a fairytale, for crying out loud. It has nothing to do with real life.'

'Professor Dumbledore believes the Deathly Hallows exists,' Minerva said, annoyed with Augusta's response.

'Oh, now I understand why you, of all people, suddenly have taken an interest in Lovegood's ramblings,' Augusta said, and she nudged Pomona in the side. 'If Professor Dumbledore says so…' Augusta mocked teasingly. And both girls started giggling at Minerva's reddened face.

Minerva stamped with her foot on the ground. 'Everybody knows the Elder Wand is real. It's been tracked throughout history many times. The Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick, or whatever it's being called, it is out there. So why should the other items not be real as well?'

'I've heard Grindelwald has it,' Hagrid said softly.

They all looked at him, shocked. 'But then… then…' Minerva did not finish the sentence. The thought was too horrible.

'Who told you that?' Hermione asked, merely interested, knowing full well the outcome of history.

Hagrid's face went crimson and he wriggled his hands in his lap. 'Uh… nobody, I sort of overheard this conversation.' And he stopped, but continued when he saw all the curious faces staring at him. 'Between Headmaster Dippet and Professor Dumbledore… and well… Professor Dumbledore claims that he has it.'

Hermione frowned. If Grindelwald had this unbeatable wand, then shouldn't he be unbeatable? She knew perfectly well that Dumbledore had defeated him, but how? Too many questions, too many variables, so many secrets and lies. And she remembered the photograph and its caption. _'Albus Dumbledore, shortly after his mother's death, with his friend Gellert Grindelwald.'_

If only she could know for sure. She remembered the sign in the book Dumbledore had left her. The sign Dumbledore himself had drawn on the cover. The same sign had appeared on the grave of Ignotius Peverell at the Godric's Hollow cemetery. And she pulled her copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard from her small beaded bag and showed it to Ernest Lovegood. He took the book from her, and watched it with astonishment.

'A first edition? Do you have any idea how rare and valuable they are?' he asked Hermione, while going through the pages.

Hermione shook her head, and said: 'Look at the sign on the cover. Do you know what that sign resembles?'

'It's the sign of the Deathly Hallows,' Ernest said, after having monitored the cover for a short while, and he handed her the book back. 'Whoever combines the three Hallows is the true Master of Death. This sign represents that. Believers of the Hallows all over the world use it to make themselves known to others.'

'So, the Deathly Hallows are real,' Hermione said quietly and bit her lip.

She had told Harry to stop looking. What if Voldemort found out about them? What if he already knew? He had been looking for Gregorovitch, the Wandmaker. Could that have been for the Elder Wand? Something was stolen from Gregorovitch ages ago, and she suddenly remembered the thief had been Grindelwald. Harry had recognised him from the picture. So Hagrid was right. And she knew Voldemort would get the Elder Wand rather easily if Grindelwald really was its owner. It was not that he could defend himself being locked up in Nurmengard. She didn't even know where they stored the wands of their prisoners. This was an utter disaster. And it was all her fault.

'Who cares whether these Hallows are real or make-believe? We have a book to find, not some item that _maybe_ was created with the knowledge inside,' Augusta said, sick of listening to what she believed to be nonsense.

It was when Ernest said something that shook them all to the core. 'The book is said to be owned by whoever holds the Elder Wand.'

Hermione turned pale and leaned against the wall. She noticed how a cacophony of noise broke out all around her. Everyone was shouting through one another, and nobody was listening anymore.

'I'm not going to ask Gellert Grindelwald for a book.'

'Yeah, I'm sure he will have no problem parting with it, if you ask him nicely.'

'How are we ever going to get it now?'

'You are so full of it, Lovegood.'

'You know what, let's tell Riddle all about it, then _he_ can go to Grindelwald and get his arse kicked. Hah! Maybe they can kill off each other. That would certainly solve all our problems.'

'I don't see you bringing any leads on something of Helga's here.'

'Is everything all right, Hermione … Hermione?' Rubeus asked, worried because of Hermione's pale expression and silence.

They all stopped chattering, eyeing the only two people who hadn't been participating in the shouting match. Hermione was leaning against the bathroom wall, staring into thin air. If Voldemort was after the Elder Wand in her time and he would take it from Grindelwald, which he easily could, Ravenclaw's book would also become his. And she had told Harry the Hallows were not important. She felt she was going to be sick.

'Hermione?' Minerva had joined Hagrid's side, and was now also eyeing her with concern.

'I'm… I'm… I'm late for Potions,' Hermione suddenly said.

She swept around, unlocked the door and fled the bathroom, leaving the others standing, baffled and worried. Hermione ran towards the staircases, but instead of going down to the dungeons she went up. She ran as hard as she could, until she reached the Room of Requirement. Impatiently, she passed the hidden door thrice, swirled inside and grabbed Godric's book that was still lying on the table. Hermione knew the books, both of them, had to be taken elsewhere. Riddle could not keep them, if he would someday also become the owner of Mind over Matter. With the knowledge of three, all he would need was Hufflepuff's finest and he would become Master of Manipulation. So she opened her beaded bag and was about to dump Infinity in Space in there, when she realised ... The Unbreakable Vow! She had sworn an Unbreakable Vow. She could not take those damn books anywhere. Not until they had shared the entire contents that was in there. And she sank to the floor in despair. Minerva had been right.

' _Why would you do such a thing? Don't you know he'll use it against you? You realise there must be some ulterior motive behind this. And when you find out…'_

And she remembered her holiday in Canada, where she had met the DADA teacher of the Canadian Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Professor Magick had once said in her presence: _'A deal with the Devil is never a good idea, even when both you and the Devil are in far over your heads.'_

How very and utterly true.

And so Hermione left the Room of Requirement, while leaving behind both books on the table, feeling she was the utmost dumb person in the whole wide world. She knew that if they would start handing out awards for stupidity she would definitely be a winner. And it wasn't until she saw Tom Riddle standing in the corridor talking to Rodolphus Lestrange that the events of the early morning came back to mind. He had kissed her. Merlin knows why, but he had done just that. Angrily, Hermione went into the classroom and threw her belongings on the first table in the front of the row. She started waiting for Professor Galatea Merrythought to arrive. Hermione noticed how the other students walked in, but there was still no sign of Tom Riddle. Apparently, he was in no hurry to get inside.

'Unusual,' she thought.

Ernest winked at her, before he sat down next to his friends from Ravenclaw. And she smiled back at him. Lucretia Black sat down next to her and started talking about the Christmas Dance. Obviously, she felt Hermione was not well informed about the routines of Hogwarts and she was determined to correct that lapse in education. Especially, since the Dance in question was merely a week-and-a-half away from actually happening.

Eventually, Professor Merrythought entered the classroom and Tom, accompanied by Rodolphus, followed her in. Tom threw one glance at Hermione, before he made his way to the far end of the classroom, sitting down at the very last table of the row with Lestrange. Hermione raised her eyebrows at this behaviour, but it suited her just fine. After all, if he was avoiding her, that would save her the trouble of having to avoid him.

And it turned out that he definitely was avoiding her, because the next couple days showed her Tom followed the same routine over and over again. He would wait outside the classroom until she was seated, and then, he sat down as far away from her as he possibly could. And it wasn't limited to their classes. Wherever Hermione was, somehow Tom had made certain that he had business to attend to far, far away from that place, which, no doubt, made going to the library quite a trying time for him. They never reconvened in the Room of Requirement, and it was almost like both books did not exist. And even though, sometimes, Hermione's thoughts would dwell on the Unbreakable Vow, she was quick in telling herself that nothing bad was going to happen when both parties involved decided not to live up to its expectations.

Unfortunately for the both of them, Hermione wasn't the only one who noticed Tom's odd behaviour. The Slytherins, especially the group that followed Tom around, were very pleased with this turn of events. Finally, their leader wasn't constantly conversing with that Mudblood. And the other students did not care much or were rooting for Hermione. Minerva and the other four "Order Members" had asked her what happened, but Hermione was not in the mood to share the event and had kept evenly quiet about it as Tom had to any of his so-called friends.

The Hogwarts' staff also did not miss the sudden estrangement between the two Slytherins. Some of the professors were only giving them curious glances. Slughorn, who thought the two of them were a perfect Slytherin pair, had suddenly deemed it necessary to couple students for their work and he had placed the two of them together. The professor was probably hoping this would help his star pupils get over whatever fight they were in and he ignored the furious glares, he was getting from the both of them, deeming his interference was all for a good cause and they would one day thank him for it.

But not even Slughorn's unwanted interference could top the Transfiguration lessons with Professor Dumbledore. Transfiguration had been the only lesson Hermione hadn't found trying to sit through in 1944, because Tom Riddle had the good sense not to stage his usual charming routine with Dumbledore. However, Tom had no problem showing Dumbledore he was not keen on being around Hermione Evans any more. And Dumbledore had always been quite the observer of human nature. So Hermione had felt like she was being X-rayed on numerous occasions and it was already a difficult task to follow Dumbledore's explanations on Transfiguration without the constant gazes of those light blue eyes.

Professor Dumbledore had turned out to be quite a different teacher than McGonagall. Minerva was strict and stern, while Dumbledore was highly relaxed and open-minded. If they were practising and a student would make a mess of his work, Dumbledore would be there telling that student about the one time when he had caused monkey ears to grow on a turtle or he told some other anecdote about his own faulty experience that he seemed to have in abundance.

Where Minerva's lessons were highly structured and precise, and therefore easy to follow for the students, Dumbledore would jump from one subject to the next. He was easily distracted from the main topic by something as simple as a question, and he would then expand his thoughts on that with numerous anecdotes. Those anecdotes usually caused him to sway even further from the original topic of the lesson, and by the very end of that lesson, there were only a few students in the class, who were not confused on what today's subject had been.

Actually, only three students were capable of keeping some track of Dumbledore's thought processes. Minerva, because Transfiguration came to her as something she was naturally born with. Hermione, because she quickly learnt simply to rely on her textbook to learn the required assignments, and so she avoided taken notes and just listened to Dumbledore. And Tom, because he could actually follow the tremendous leaps of faith with no problem whatsoever, not that he would agree with Dumbledore's conclusions all the time.

And surely, after another difficult Transfiguration lesson, what Hermione had feared, finally happened. Professor Dumbledore halted her to ask her if she was all right and to question her about Tom's sudden lack of desire to be around her. Dumbledore said something that if asked upon Harry would have recognised. He asked Hermione if there was something she needed to tell him. Hermione felt extremely uncomfortable denying that, but she was also slightly irritated that the man who invented secrets and lies had the nerve to ask her something like that.

So she left the classroom in a hurry. She was glad it was almost weekend, so she would have, at least, two Dumbledore-free days. She passed Lestrange and Avery without so much as giving them a second glance and was walking towards the library in an empty corridor when she had the distinct feeling, she was being followed. Hermione turned around, but saw no one. And she hoisted her shoulders, while in the distance a wand was raised and a Severing Charm was spoken.

'Diffindo.'


	13. Chapter 13

**Masters of Manipulation**

**Chapter 13**

The loud noises that came from the Slytherin Common Room would have woken up a bear in the middle of his winter sleep. It was obvious there was some kind of celebration going on, and even though it was still very early in the evening, the way some of them spoke in slurs hinted that they had downed just one sip too many of the Firewhisky.

'Diffindo!'

Rodolphus Lestrange blasted the vase that stood in the small alcove into a million pieces.

'And that's exactly what she looked like after we were finished with her!' he stated triumphant to the other boys in the Slytherin Common Room, eyeing Avery with clear delight.

'Stupid piece of filth, the likes of her shouldn't even be allowed to walk these hallways,' Avery added. 'But we showed her, didn't we, Rod? We taught her a little lesson and made sure she wouldn't interfere with her superiors ever again.'

'Yeah, he will be pleased. We made sure that girl will never mind the business of another Slytherin again. The nerve of that bitch; always telling us what to do,' Lestrange spat the words out of his mouth and he was clearly happy with the admiring looks he was receiving from the other boys in the Common Room.

'I'm certain she was behind the attack on us the other day, when we were trying to take out Macmillan,' Avery added. 'So she had it coming, a nice trip to the infirmary for her.'

Avery and Lestrange held out their glasses towards each other and cheered. The Firewhisky and Butterbeer were flowing richly. Lestrange held out a bottle towards Mulciber, but he declined the offer. Now, Mulciber was known to be ready to party day and night. So everybody was staring at him with their eyes wide open in surprise.

'Don't be a little baby, Mully. I know it's still early in the evening, but you've never said no to Butterbeer before.' Avery cheered. 'Besides, we have something to celebrate!'

'Do you really,' Mulciber said sarcastically.

For a moment it was silent in the room. Apparently, everyone was shocked at Mulciber's sudden shift in persona, but Avery's loud voice responded to Mulciber's sarcasm before he could explain himself.

'Yeah! Didn't you hear what we just told everybody? She is in the infirmary!' Avery shouted.

'So you cleared this with him before you hexed her, before you did so much damage that she will be in the infirmary for quite some time to come?' Mulciber asked, still not accepting the Butterbeer that Lestrange was now trying to push violently into his hand.

There was no need for Mulciber to elaborate. Everyone in the Common Room knew whom Mulciber was referring to. And it was obvious that Mulciber wasn't happy with what the others had done.

'I'm sure he is fine with it, Mully. He has hexed the bitch herself on numerous occasions. Too bad I wasn't around to see all of them,' Rodolphus said laughing.

'So he doesn't know you did this?' Mulciber said anxiously.

And there was a sudden creak of the chair as Mulciber flew out of it, followed by the quick sounds of hurried footsteps. Mulciber was disappearing towards the exit as fast as he could.

'HE! Mully! Where are you going?'

'Come on man, don't be a Party Pooper.'

'Yeah, have some Butterbeer! You're more fun after you had one!'

Mulciber reached out towards the door handle, but the door was already opening, and no doubt, the one person, whom Mulciber was planning on avoiding, stood right in front of him.

'Going somewhere?' Tom Riddle asked coolly.

Mulciber's eyes widened in fright and he backed away slowly towards the wall on his right, not wanting to be anywhere in the vicinity of Lestrange and Avery. Riddle stepped inside the Slytherin Common Room, and he closed the door behind him in such a nonchalant and casual manner that it was sending a clear message to everybody that they were not to leave right now. His dark eyes flashed red when they were scanning the obvious party scene before him. His mere presence having caused it to stand frozen like someone had just taken a snapshot, a photograph of happier times for future generations to see.

'Having a bit of a celebration?' Tom asked, pleasantly.

He was shifting his gaze from one person to the next, until he reached Avery. Here, his eyes lingered for a moment. But then, he moved on, until he reached Lestrange and Riddle's gaze intensified. He took a step forward.

'Well? Have you all lost your tongue?'

The pleasantness had completely vanished from his voice and his eyes were darting between Avery and Lestrange, as if he was trying to make up his mind. The other occupants in the room were shifting uncomfortably in their seats. None of them were keen on responding. No one wanted to become the centre of attention right now. However, the continuing silence after Riddle's question was equally awkward and everyone in the room was suddenly very much aware of their posture and standing. They could feel their own heartbeats pounding inside their chest, their breaths were sharp and shallow, and several drops of sweat were beginning to become visible on a couple of foreheads. But Riddle did not alleviate them. He let the silence continue, eyeing each and everyone in the room in turn. And the longer they waited, the more difficult became the concept of ever answering his question. It wasn't until he had watched every single one of them that his attention turned back to the culprits responsible for the mess.

'Rodolphus, care to explain to me what this is all about?' Tom softly said, while waving with his hand towards the Firewhisky and Butterbeer on the table.

Lestrange looked like he'd rather swallowed an entire bottle of Skele-Gro than explain to, this exceptionally calm and quiet, Tom Riddle what they had been doing. But he had no choice, so he started stammering: 'We-we-we … were ... ce-cele-le-brating…'

'…that the girl is in the infirmary,' he added quickly, upon seeing the annoyance that crept up onto Riddle's face.

Riddle stared at him without as much as one visible emotion detectable. 'I see,' he said evenly.

'She hexed us first!' Lestrange shouted desperately, and when Riddle raised an eyebrow at him, he wrongly took that as an encouragement to continue. 'The other night when we were setting up Macmillan for a nice set of boils, that would have made it impossible for her to fly on a broom, that's when she hexed Avery, Mulciber and me. I'm certain it was her.'

'I had already taken care of the Macmillan situation. So why did the three of you think it was necessary to jinx the Seeker?' Tom said in an eerily calm manner of speaking. 'Or did you think I needed assistance from the three of you? Did you perhaps think I would not succeed?'

Rodolphus stood frozen. He looked like someone who had been kicked violently in the head, and he was unable to speak another word, so he looked sideways to Avery and Mulciber for collaboration of his story. But Avery, suddenly, found the chandelier on the ceiling far more interesting than his partner in crime, and Mulciber looked incredibly offended that his name had been dragged into this conversation, since he had, after all, nothing to do with the cursing of the girl.

Riddle, suddenly, took another step into the direction of Lestrange and his wand was now visible inside his hand. Several of the boys were staring at it with clear apprehension on their faces.

'Well?' Riddle said impatiently. 'Are you ever going to answer me, Rodolphus?'

'It was nothing like that,' Rodolphus hastily said. 'We would never question your abilities, my Lord. We just thought…'

'You just thought…,' Riddle repeated slowly, like he was testing the words on his tongue. 'I guess we've discovered the origin of all the problems.'

Lestrange took another helpless glance at his friends for some support, but none was coming.

'I suppose,' Riddle said quietly, 'I should deal with this urge of you all to start _thinking_.' The last word was spoken with an incredible amount of sarcasm in his voice. 'We wouldn't want _that_ to become a habit, now would we, Rodolphus?'

Lestrange was now obviously getting desperate and he was watching Avery with clear hatred in his eyes. ' _Avery_ and I thou…,' but he corrected himself quickly. ' _Avery_ and I wanted to do you a favour, Master. So _we_ cursed her, that way you would be rid of her presence.'

'So you cursed her.'

It was not a question. Tom Riddle had already seen the answer in Avery and Lestrange's eyes.

'For you, Master, for you!' Lestrange shouted fearful.

'I don't recall telling you to curse anyone on my behalf, Lestrange,' Riddle said menacingly. 'Do the two of you have any idea how far this little action of yours sets me back in my plans? DO YOU!?'

Avery and Lestrange jerked in fright, when Riddle's voice was suddenly raised in volume. And they were shaking their heads to deny their knowledge.

'And that's exactly why I don't need a pair of idiots doing any so called _thinking_ ,' he sneered.

And Tom continued threateningly. 'Let me make one thing clear. You all are to stay away from the following people: Augusta Longbottom, Ernest Lovegood, Pomona Sprout, Rubeus Hagrid, Minerva McGonagall and _Hermione_ _Evans_.

I don't care whether any of you feel they have hurt you in some manner or form. I don't care if they have crushed your tiny, little egos. I don't care if they hex, jinx or curse you. I don't care if they attack you. You. Will. Not. Touch. Them.

If anything were to happen to any of them, _ever again,_ I will be very unhappy. And you do not want to be the reason for my unhappiness. Isn't that right, Avery?'

'I'm sorry, my Lord,' Avery said, terrified.

'You're sorry…,' Tom repeated lazily. 'I do not accept your snivelling apologies. You have disappointed me, Avery.' And he took a step towards Avery.

'You have failed me.' Another step forward.

'And I do not respond kindly to failure.' Lord Voldemort raised his wand, and two spells flew from it in a fast, consecutive manner.

'Imperturio! Crucio!' Tom cast.

The Imperturbable Charm was aimed at the exit, but the Cruciatus Curse hit Avery right in the chest. He fell to the floor screaming his lungs out in agony, thrashing and writhing in pain. And the curse was not lifted quickly. Hermione realised that Riddle made sure Avery and the others were very clear on what would happen if they ever failed him again. She pulled her eyes away from the scene she had been watching through the crack between the door and the wall. She felt no need to see it, because the screams pretty much told her everything, namely that Lestrange was next.

Hermione had gone into the girl's dormitory, after that unnerving experience with Professor Dumbledore, looking for some peace and quietness. Some loud noises coming from the Common Room had woken her up, and she was shocked to find herself lying on the bed. She had fallen asleep while trying to do some homework. Her Ancient Runes textbook lay beneath her, and the parchment, she had been writing on, was not only wrinkled but had sufficient stains on them as well. Apparently, her ink-bottle had toppled over and its entire contents had been spilt onto her homework, her sheets and clothes. A simple "Tergeo" had taken care of the stains.

It was when she had heard Rodolphus cast the Severing Charm and his loud bragging about some girl they hexed. She could hear them all very clearly, even if she was all the way down in her dormitory. The loudness was disturbing her concentration. So it had made her decide to go to the library to finish the rest of her homework there. She was just about to enter the Common Room when Riddle did from the other end. The door to the staircase had blocked her from immediate view, but she had just got a brief glimpse of him and had stepped back recognising that expression on his face.

'Better wait 'till he's gone from the area,' she had thought.

And she was now very glad that she had waited, otherwise she would not have heard what Riddle told his teen Death Eaters, but she was not happy with this information, not happy at all.

'He knew,' she thought frantically. 'He knew about the others. How had he found out? When? What else did he know? And who had Lestrange and Avery cursed? The way Riddle had spoken about it made her think it was one of her friends. Ernest and Rubeus could be discarded, since she had heard they were referring to a girl. So it had to be either Pomona, Augusta or … _Minerva_.'

Somehow, she felt it was the latter. They had spoken about someone who interfered in their business, and Minerva, as Head Girl, had done that on more than one occasion. And they had thought Riddle would be pleased with their actions. And she remembered Lucretia's words.

' _I know you've been trying to stop this event from taking place this year, Tom, ever since you found out who became Head Girl. But Dippet is far too fond of dancing, so I doubt even you can talk him out of it.'_

The Christmas Ball would be next Friday. If Minerva was severely injured, then Tom would not have to… Suddenly, Hermione felt a desperate need to check the infirmary to see for herself who was there and how bad the situation was. But even though his lackeys had scattered away fearfully, that damn Riddle was still in the Common Room. And right now, she certainly couldn't make him aware of her presence. That would be a serious mistake to do so.

So she waited, and waited, and waited some more. And the longer she had to wait, the more worried and upset she became. If something bad had happened to Minerva, it would be all her fault. It would be all _His_ fault. And that unbelievable jerk had the nerve to grab and kiss her! She felt a tremendous temper rise inside her chest. Her wand was suddenly in her hand. She raised it…

'What do you think you are doing, Hermione?' asked a little voice inside of her head, when she was about to step through the doorway. It was her own voice of reason, and it sounded angry. She halted her forward movement and listened to it.

'Have you completely lost your mind? Control those feelings; you know some of them are not yours. Don't let this Blood Bond take over. Get a grip of yourself. You cannot let him know you were here and witnessed everything.'

Her heart was beating rapidly, her breaths were shallow and fast, every muscle in her body was ready for action, and she _so_ wanted to hex Riddle into the next life. She felt ferocious, livid, and wrathful. But her mind was screaming at her to stop and to think before acting. Suddenly, Riddle flew up out of the couch. He paced out of the Common Room and slammed the door so hard behind him that the walls trembled. And when he was gone, Hermione felt calm again. Her temper removed like it had not existed.

'Oh Godric, I'm turning into Harry,' she mumbled. She was incredibly concerned when she realised what had almost happened. 'Why didn't Godric's Room provide me with a way to end this Blood-Bond-thingy?'

And it hit her like a ton of bricks. What if ending the Bond wasn't the solution? Godric's Room provided her with the things she needed to succeed…

' _I believe it is the main reason as to why the binding has remained incomplete,' Tom had said._

The Blood-Bond was incomplete because of Salazar Slytherin's protections on Eternity in Time. That was what Riddle had said, and because the bond was incomplete she couldn't… Hermione gasped at her revelation. And she knew that if she was right, Godric's room should provide her with the means to complete the binding. Hermione stormed out of the Slytherin Common Room and ran up the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower, until she ran into Augusta Longbottom.

'Hermione, thank Godric, you are all right. I've been looking all over for you. Minerva has been attacked,' Augusta said, worried.

A cold feeling clamped itself around Hermione's heart. She had been right. It was Minerva who the Slytherins had been referring to.

'How is she?' Hermione asked, dreading the answer.

'I don't know. I tried getting into the infirmary, but they locked it up. I did see Riddle entering and exiting it,' Augusta said the latter with malice. 'I guess being the one responsible gets you a free access card from Dippet.'

Hermione shook her head. 'Trust me, it wasn't him. I just witnessed him cursing the living daylights out of the two responsible for Minerva's condition.'

'Who?' asked Augusta.

'Lestrange and Avery,' answered Hermione.

Augusta narrowed her eyes. 'Lestrange … What did Riddle do to him?'

Hermione checked the corridor again and whispered: 'The Cruciatus Curse, for a pretty damn long time too. After he had already made Avery wet his pants.'

'Good,' Augusta said calmly, before continuing in a tone of utter vengeance: 'I hope Lestrange remembers how easy he had it, when he tries to walk to the infirmary after I have broken every bone in his pathetic weasel's body.'

And she started to walk away, but Hermione grabbed her by the arm. 'Wait! Where are the others?'

Augusta hoisted her shoulders. 'After we found out something happened to Minerva, we were all worried about you, so we started searching. But I don't know where they all are now,' she said uncaring now that she knew everybody else was all right.

'Riddle knows about you lot,' Hermione said quietly.

'WHAT!' Augusta shouted.

'Sshhh…,' Hermione whispered anxiously, 'he doesn't know I overheard this.'

'How, when, what?' Augusta whispered back.

'Good questions,' Hermione said sighing. She was getting sick of continuously walking behind the facts. Somehow, it seemed Riddle was always one step ahead of her.

'You don't think we have a mole, do you?' Augusta asked, thoughtfully.

Hermione went silent. She remembered the same discussion popping up after the seven Harry's incident. An incident, where Hagrid had been present at as well, and she had seen Harry eye Hagrid, before he discarded the thought as utter nonsense. And she remembered how badly Remus Lupin had reacted, when Harry said that he did not believe anyone in the room would have sold him out to Voldemort.

' _I think you're like James. Who would have regarded it as the height of dishonour to mistrust his friends.'_

But it couldn't be Hagrid. It just couldn't be.

'No, Riddle probably saw us enter the Room of Requirement or meet somewhere else,' Hermione replied to Augusta, but in the back of her mind a linger of doubt remained.

'Perhaps, but if he knows about us, why did he curse Avery and Lestrange?'

'He said something about them interfering with his plans,' Hermione said grumbling.

'What plans?' was the sharp response she got back.

'Beats me,' Hermione said shrugging. 'He didn't say, but he did tell them to stay away from all of us. Told them they would make him very unhappy, if something bad would happen to us,' Hermione added in a sarcastic tone of voice.

And she noticed how her words had drawn an expression on Augusta's face like Christmas had arrived a week earlier this year.

'This isn't good news, Augusta,' she hissed at her.

'No, of course it isn't,' Augusta answered virtuous, but her eyes sparkled with excitement and the broad smile had not disappeared from her face either.

It gave Hermione a real uneasy feeling.

'You can't go about hexing them all just because you know Riddle told them to keep their wands in their pockets,' Hermione warned Augusta. 'You don't know if how long this do-not-harm-order is going to last.'

Augusta nodded, but her entire posture stated the opposite.

'Augusta!' Hermione said, frustrated with her lack of compliance.

'Yeah, I heard you... No hexing Riddle's puppets… Shall we go see if we can get into the infirmary now?'

Hermione noticed how Augusta neatly changed the subject, but she was curious about Minerva's condition too, and it wasn't like she could tie down Augusta anyway. So they went to the infirmary, but it was still locked and Headmaster Dippet told them Minerva was in no state to see any visitors.

'I'll go find the others and tell them what you've told me,' Augusta said quietly. 'Are you coming with me?'

'No, I have to look up something,' Hermione said, remembering the reason why she had left the Slytherin Common Room in the first place. 'Augusta?'

Neville's grandmother, who had started to walk away, turned in the corridor and watched Hermione questioningly.

'I'm already worried sick about Minerva; so please, don't do anything dangerous, please.'

'Sure, Hermione, no problem,' Augusta said reassuringly.

But Hermione could not shake the uneasy feeling that she wasn't truthful. She was certain Augusta had just lied to her. She just knew it, while she went to Godric's Room to research her new theory on the Blood-Binding Charm.

* * *

Hermione was going through Blood Magic vigorously. This Dark Arts volume stated in extreme detail how to create all kinds of disgusting things with blood. Hermione was finished reading the chapter on Blood Bonds, when she finally rendered the book shut. She had been right. There were no books in Godric's Room on how to disengage a Blood-Binding Charm, but there certainly was enough information for her here to strengthen one into completion. She bit her lip. She knew why Godric's Room deemed it necessary for her to complete the bond. She had remembered what Riddle had let slip carelessly, when he was inside of her.

' _I don't need my soul in these pages, considering that the Blood-Binding Charm that's on them already gives me full control of the book in the first place.'_

A Blood-Binding Charm gave Riddle full control over Eternity in Time. And she knew that Salazar Slytherin must have used said Charm to prevent others from using the book. So only his true heir could activate it. And it was the reason why she had, temporarily, been able to use the book, because Voldemort had taken Salazar's example and had created a second Blood-Binding Charm on the pages. This caused her blood to be partly bonded to the blood of Salazar's heir, and because of that, Salazar's protections could not evict her from its pages completely. If she could somehow complete the binding, she would be able to truly master Eternity in Time and finish Helga's mission. The only downfall to that scenario was that once the bond was completed, she would fall totally under Riddle's control, which would definitely proof to be a problem in finishing Helga's mission.

So even though she found an answer to solve her inability to use the book, she found it was not an answer to be excited about or to even use. She threw away Blood Magic angrily. What was the point in being able to master Eternity in Time if someone else mastered you? Hermione sighed. She bent forwards, while placing her head in her hands. And so she sat there, contemplating her options. It was not like she was going to succeed in strengthening the Blood Bond anyway. She needed Riddle's blood, freely giving. Hermione snorted. She could just imagine the look on his face when she would ask him for something like that.

'Oh Lord Voldemort, do you mind giving me a bit of your blood? I can't tell you why, otherwise you'll use it against me, but I really need it,' she said mockingly.

'Sure Granger, no problem,' she answered herself in an eerie likeness to Tom Riddle's voice.

She snorted again. 'Like that was ever going to happen. He wasn't so stupid to do something li…' Hermione halted in shock and she even stopped breathing for a moment as the revelation hit her upon remembering something Tom Riddle had said to her.

' _So my older version sent the book to you, knowing full well that you would try to make the book work by using that despicable blood of yours.'_

Hermione looked up in wonder. 'He wouldn't have…?'

And she ran out of Godric's Room towards the Room of Requirement. She hurried in and picked up Infinity in Space. She knew she could not start reading in it, because that would attract very unwanted company, but a little Blood Revealing Magic would tell her all she needed to know. She almost dropped the book when she obtained the answer. Tom Riddle had used his blood freely to try and activate Godric's book, and it still lingered on its pages.

'Perhaps I don't need to complete a binding, but create one of my own,' she thought.

This time around, Hermione was more than a little excited. She placed Infinity in Space back on the table and returned to Godric's Room to check the details. After rendering the Dark Arts volume shut, she knew she could easily create her own Blood Bond to Tom Riddle. All she needed to do was: collect a bit of her own blood, charm it (so it would get the necessary binding capabilities), and dumb it on the pages of Infinity in Space, so it would mix with Riddle's. It wouldn't be more than five minutes work.

But still, she hesitated. There were so many variables to consider. What kind of effect would a second bond have on the first one? If she did this, wouldn't she be enabling Riddle to use Infinity in Space? Give him the capabilities to master that book fully? And she would have to tell him what she had done. The Unbreakable Vow made sure of that. They had sworn to reveal the entire contents of the book to each other, not just the text. And she could not wait in creating the Bond until they were finished, because she was certain the only reason she hadn't been cursed into oblivion yet, had something to do with him still needing her to tell him the contents of said book. Once that was done, she would never get the time to Blood Bond them together.

'Arggh.'

She could not do this. She needed to see all the options first and to think it through thoroughly.

'Going to wait so Tom Riddle can solve his little Blood-Binding-Charm's problem first? You know he will be looking for solutions to complete his binding. If he does…'

There was that little nagging voice again, and she knew it was right. Besides, she would never find all the answers to her questions. Since there was simply no literature on creating something like this, under circumstances as theirs, with those magical objects involved.

'I could, of course, make the initial preparations without doing any harm,' Hermione thought, not wanting to make a risky decision just yet.

So she diverted her attention away to the practicalities. She collected an empty bottle, used her wand to draw her own blood, placed it in the bottle and charmed it. There, preparations completed.

Now, all she needed to do was: dump it inside Infinity in Space and her Blood Bond would take effect. Hermione was still reciting all the possibilities and angles of this activity, when she decided there was no harm in moving towards the Room of Requirement in advance of her decision. So she went over there. She sat down and placed the bottle next to the book. Her eyes darted between them.

'This is the answer Godric Gryffindor has provided you with, Hermione. Use it.'

' _You don't know that for sure, Hermione. You could be doing this under Riddle's influence. Remember what happened in the Slytherin Common Room. Be careful.'_

The contradictory statements she made to herself were driving her crazy.

'But Riddle is not here right now.'

' _But Salazar's book is.'_

'He'll beat you in completing his bond if you don't do this now.'

' _You don't know if he's really looking for an answer.'_

'Of course he is.'

' _Is not.'_

'Is too.'

' _Is n…'_

Hermione grabbed the vial of blood, opened Gryffindor's book, and she closed her eyes for a moment when she emptied the bottle on the pages. After the world did not come to an abrupt end, she carefully opened one eye and peeked at the book. She placed the empty bottle back on the table and shook out her hands to relieve some of the tension she was feeling. She watched her charmed blood disappear into the pages, and then … it happened.

And unlike with the Unbreakable Vow, this time around, Hermione witnessed what happened. It was so blinding it was impossible to miss. Startled, she jumped out of the chair she was sitting in, when she saw a dash of silver and gold emanating from the respective books on the table. The pages of both books started turning, until the centre of the books was reached. And both books remained open, motionless, glowing slightly. She was just about to advance forward to check what was written on those pages, when…

'What the hell are you doing here, Evans!?'

But she did not get the time to respond to Tom Riddle's question, because at the very moment the door closed behind him, a shock wave flew from both volumes trashing everything in its wake, and Tom Marvolo Riddle and Hermione Jean Granger passed out on its impact.


	14. Chapter 14

---  
  
**Disclaimer** : This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

H.P. Lovecraft is the inventor of the fictional book the Necronomicom. He first mentioned this book in his short story 'The Hound' (published in 1924). So I do not own the Necronomicom ('yikes'), which means there really is no point in ramming down my front door in order to obtain it for some satanic ritual; I do not own it!

The Grimoire, I am referring to, was seen in 'Charmed'. It was the evil version of the 'Book of Shadows', and the 'Grimoire' was used to become the Source of All Evil. Naturally, I also do not own 'Charmed' and therefore I am also not the owner of this particular Grimoire (does another Yikes!).

And now I'm depressed about all those things I do not own (winks). 

* * *

  
**Masters of Manipulation**  


  
**Chapter 14**

  
Inside the Room of Requirement a small, abandoned library was completely trashed by a shock wave of incredible force. Apart from the two thick, leather books, whose leaves were turning due to the tiny breeze that still whirled around the room, nothing had survived the blast intact. The books lay seemingly innocent on top of the debris as if they merely bore witness to the destruction. Small bits and pieces of wood were scattered around everywhere and the breeze in the room slowly began removing the falling dust from view. In the centre of the room remained the motionless, still bodies of two Hogwarts' students, Tom Marvolo Riddle and Hermione Jean Granger.

A flash caused a piece of parchment to appear out of thin air, and it landed between Tom and Hermione. The parchment had a yellow colour with a black rim and it was glowing intensely in a combination of yellow-and-black light. Another flash and two breaths were taken simultaneously, while the parchment appeared to crumble into dust. A cough, another cough, some moaning and groaning, but slowly and surely, the two started to crawl back onto their feet in a daze.

And Hermione felt strange, weird, like she was floating in thin air. She tried checking out her surroundings but saw nothing except for this big, blinding, white light and she felt peaceful yet detached from herself. Her senses seemed to be malfunctioning, because she heard, tasted and smelt nothing. All there was for the moment was this light.

But then, there was pain, incredible pain. And she wanted to return to that light, to that pain-free state of being, and to the peace and calmness it brought. But she fell … and the light slowly dimmed, until there was nothing but darkness surrounding her.

She took a deep breath and coughed. Her eyes opened and there was rubble everywhere. She checked her body, but apart from some minor cuts and scratches, it was still intact. It was peculiar how a blast that destroyed everything inanimate to that kind of degree had left her feeling a bit dizzy and nothing more. She should have died. She thought she had. Hermione looked up and saw a pair of dark eyes glint at her in a peculiar manner. It made her extremely uncomfortable.

'What have you done, Evans?' Tom Riddle asked seemingly pleasant.

Hermione recognised that tone. He had used that tone before today. It was right before he had cursed Avery and Lestrange. Hermione looked around the room and she saw the two books lying still again on the floor.

'There not glowing anymore,' she said curiously.

And before Tom could say anything, she continued her speech, faking ignorance and innocence. 'What do you think happened?'

He eyed her suspiciously. 'You haven't answered my question, Granger. What were you doing here?'

Hermione walked over to the two books. She shook her head and pressed her eyelids together in an attempt to wake up more properly, hoping it would stop that feeling of having cotton-wool stuffed in your mind. She was also stalling for time. She picked up the book from Gryffindor and opened it while she answered Riddle's question, purposely avoiding eye contact with Mr Legilimency. It had not gone unnoticed by Hermione that he had got a shipload of information from her in the past by merely looking at her.

'I had this urge to come here,' Hermione said casually.

She skipped through the leaves of the book, while stating this. Quickly, she formulated a question of her own. 'Why did you come? Same reason?'

And she looked up at him questioningly, knowing it was safe to do so for now, and that it would become extremely suspicious if she kept her nose in the book continuously.

'You had this urge to come here,' Riddle repeated slowly.

'Fine, don't answer my question if you don't want to, Riddle,' Hermione said, annoyed.

'Why should I? You haven't answered mine.'

'Yes, I did.'

'No, you didn't.'

Hermione sighed. 'Now, I could respond by repeating one more time that I did, but I really feel we should have outgrown a childish debate like that.'

'I couldn't agree more, but since you fail to see my point, allow me to explain what I mean. I asked you what you were doing here, and you answered by telling me why you were here. Last time I checked a dictionary those were still two different things, Granger,' Tom added, while he moved beside her and picked up Eternity in Time. He turned his head towards her and looked her straight in her eyes, making it impossible for her to avoid his gaze. 'So what were you doing here?'

'I was sitting at the table watching two books do something peculiar, Riddle,' Hermione answered truthfully.

'And?'

'What is this, _Twenty_ _Questions_?' Hermione replied, frowning. 'Why were you here, Riddle?'

He smirked. 'Oh, I had this urge to come here.'

'Lie.'

The word fell out of her mouth, before she could hold it in. Hermione held her breath, when she realised what she had just said, but she knew it was true. Riddle was lying to her, when he stated that he had an urge to come here. And there was that peculiar glint again in his eyes.

'So mind telling me why you think I was lying?' Riddle asked, amused.

'Because you were,' Hermione stated boldly. She knew she could not take the statement back anyway, so she might as well see if she could get any useful information out of it. 'So why would you be lying about something so innocent, Riddle?'

'And why would you be, Granger?' Riddle said quietly.

Hermione growled out of frustration over this ridiculous conversation, when she noticed the movement. She had never before witnessed it, but it was like she knew he was going to draw his wand, before she saw it. And she, quickly, pulled her wand out of her pocket and raised it too. The movements came simultaneously. So when Hermione felt the tip of his wand in her throat, Tom realised that hers was pricking in his chest. He frowned.

'Impressive, I've never before seen you draw so quickly, Granger.'

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards when he said it, and he was definitely looking at her with suspicion in his eyes. Tom removed his wand from her throat and stepped backwards slowly, putting some distance between the both of them, while pretending to take in the rubbish around them.

'Strange how everything got destroyed and we seem perfectly fine,' Tom said casually, and he looked back at Hermione.

But Hermione had not put her wand down when he did. She had noticed the predatory glance that passed through his eyes for a moment, and she did not like the sight of it. She knew the threat had not vanished. She just knew it. And there it was again! That same gleam darted in his dark eyes. And Hermione made the decision she was through waiting for Riddle to make the first move.

'Stupify!' she cast.

A deep, gong-like note reverberated from the shield, that Riddle had conjured up, when Hermione's stunner hit it.

'Come on, Granger. Don't tell me you haven't got anything a bit more substantial to throw at me?' he asked tauntingly, and he started moving sideways slowly.

But Hermione did the same, making sure to keep the distance between them.

Tom grinned and he made a sudden slashing movement with his wand. Hermione saw a very familiar purple flame speed towards her, and she dove out of the way, remembering very clearly how long she had been in the infirmary the first time that spell had hit her. She pointed her wand at the rubble. 'Waddiwasi.'

And the pieces of wood flew into the air. They sped towards Riddle and blocked her from his view, but they were also making it impossible for her to see what Riddle was doing.

'Incendio,' Tom cast. The pieces of wood caught fire, and suddenly, the fire started speeding towards her. Riddle must have used a nonverbal spell to direct them.

'Aquamenti,' Hermione responded, and the fire was extinguished.

For a second it was quiet, and then … they both fired at the same time.

'Confundo.' Tom flicked his wand, and a gong-like tone was heard across the room, when his Confusion Charm bounced off Hermione silvery shield.

'Avis Oppugno,' Hermione said, and as she moved her wand around her head, a flock of canaries started attacking Riddle.

But they got transfigured into one humongous snake that turned around and struck...

'Reducto!' Hermione's curse cleaved the snake to pieces mere moments before it would have sank its fangs into her arm.

And again, they cast their curses at the same time.

'Diffindo!' Tom's Severing Charm rammed Hermione's shield, causing her to stumble backwards.

'Deprimo!' Hermione's Pressure Charm impacted upon Tom's shield, forcing him to take a couple of steps back.

'Duro!' Hermione's Stoneturning Curse sped towards Tom, forcing him to dive out of its path, and as he rolled over the floor, he flashed his wand towards her. 'Incarcerous!'

Hermione saw the robes fly towards her to bind her and while she fired an "Incendio" at them in defence, Riddle sent out his next curse. 'Imperio!'

Only barely aware of her surroundings, Hermione felt a delightful feeling flush through her. Everything was fine. There was not a single worry in the world, and only this nice, relaxing happiness remained. And then there was Tom's calming, soothing voice: _'Drop your wand.'_

Her hand twitched and she almost let go of her wand, but another voice in the back of her head questioned Tom's suggestion. 'Why would you want to do that?' it asked her.

' _Drop your wand,' Tom repeated smoothly._

'Doesn't sound like a smart move to me.'

' _Drop it, NOW!' he ordered and all kindness was gone from his voice._

'No, I don't think so … definitely not. NO!' Hermione shouted the last word that came into her mind.

The wonderful feeling of utter bliss was lifted instantly, and she stared straight into a pair of intrigued, dark eyes. Right in front of her! Shocked, she wanted to flash her wand, but his hand was already around her wand-hand.

'Oh no, you don't,' Tom said forcefully, while he physically yanked her wand out of her hand.

'There, much better,' he said, watching the two wands he was now holding onto with satisfaction written all over his face.

Hermione started backing away from him. She had no idea where she was going, but she felt they were way too close for comfort. Her head was swivelling sideways searching the room for some means to use as defence, but the biggest piece of wood, that was lying around, couldn't have been more than an inch or two. Riddle pocketed her wand and noticed she had moved away.

'Going somewhere?' he asked, amused.

Hermione remained silent, but she did halt her movement. It wasn't worth getting Crucio-ed over. 

'Hmm… now, what was that question again that I wanted an answer to?' Tom asked himself ironically, pretending to be in deep thought about it. 'Oh yeah, now I remember,' and he gave her a broad smile that frightened her to the core. 'What were you doing here, Hermione?' he simply asked, twirling his wand.

'I already told you. I was sitting…'

'Lie,' he said lazily, and he snorted softly at her shocked face.

And when she remained silent after that, he quietly said: 'Answer me, Hermione.'

'I…' and her eyes darted upwards. 'I … I had this theory on the...'

'Look at me,' interrupted Riddle demanding.

Slightly panicking, Hermione stared at him. So when he took a step in her direction, she wanted to back away. But his wand was already at her head, touching it.

'Don't move,' he commanded, as he followed the lines of her face with his wand intensely. 'What… were… you… doing… here? Legilimency!'

And she was in the Room of Requirement with Harry and the rest of the DA… _'no… no… no…'_ …walking through the corridors arguing with Ron… _'no… not that either…no…'_ …sitting with Minerva en the others discussing the Crumple-Horned Snorkack… _'no… please…no…'_ …and she opened Infinity in Time and emptied the vial of charmed blood on its pages…

And it was over. He was out of her mind. Hermione stumbled backwards, panting and perspiring heavily. Her hand touched her head, holding it to try to stop the pounding sensation, but it subsided on its own accord. She wiped off her forehead and looked up. There was bemusement and concern visible all over Tom Riddle's face, while he watched the books lying a few feet away. But when he looked up to face her, his expression had changed to one of sheer delight.

'Now, what would Albus Dumbledore say if he knew you had performed such a dreadful Dark Arts Charm?' Tom teasingly said.

'Any thoughts, Hermione, on that?' he added smiling, when she didn't respond.

Hermione hoisted her shoulders. 'I really don't care, Riddle. Just stay away from me.'

'Oh? Is that what you want, Hermione?' Tom tauntingly asked, and he laughed. 'Strange, how your actions say something completely opposite to your words. Tell me, dear, did you really expect that I would leave you alone after you completely bonded us together?'

And that predatory glint was back in his eyes as Tom started advancing on Hermione, who started backing up even further at the same pace. She wasn't at all relaxed when she noticed his expression, and she began to realise that maybe this hadn't been such a good idea to begin with.

'Oh no, I knew I should have researched those damn Blood Bonds further, before I did this,' Hermione thought frightened. 'I missed something… I overlooked an outcome… He is way too pleased…'

'Now, let's find out, shall we?' Tom commanded, and he stretched out his hand. 'Take it.'

But Hermione really felt that would be a mistake to do so, and she took another step back instead.

'You didn't have such a big problem with me the other morning, dear,' he said smirking.

Hermione felt the blood rush to her cheeks, and the memory raised a furious temper inside of her.

Tom laughed at her flustered state before he whirled toward her, grabbed her, and pushed her up against the wall at the same time. A piece of yellow parchment with a black rim, that lay underneath the rubble, glowed, and at that exact moment Hermione felt a shock. It was like a bolt of electricity travelled through her body, hitting every nerve as it passed and leaving behind an unusual, indescribable feeling. And she noticed she wasn't the only one, who had felt it. Riddle's eyes flashed red for a second as he too, undoubtedly, was hit by this feeling, this emotion.

Whatever it was that travelled through them, it happened right after Tom touched Hermione for the first time after the completion of Hermione's Blood-Binding Charm. And another page of Helga Hufflepuff's book disappeared into thin air without anyone having noticed its presence.

'Where will you go now, Hermione?' Tom asked softly.

And he trapped her against the wall by pressing his body into hers. His hands travelled upwards from her arms to her neck, until he held on to both sides of her face with his hands.

Hermione did not move. She was staring into those deep, dark eyes of his. They were dangerous, deadly and intoxicating. She could not stop fixating on them, while their bodies were joined together, and her chest rose and fell against his with every breath that she took.

And there was something wrong, only she couldn't remember. And there was something she desperately wanted, but she couldn't recall… Until he kissed her, and she kissed him back. And somehow, at some time, her arms had moved. They were around his waist, and she was pulling him closer as she tilted her head to allow him access. Their tongues met and, as she closed her eyes, she felt the strength of their bond, their union. It engulfed them and took over, and neither one was in charge anymore.

So Time passed, while they stood there, examining each other like it would solve the mystery. They were touching the other to satisfy this desire, this urgent need, to get reacquainted with themselves, until it was done. They broke off their elaborate kissing expedition simultaneously and their eyes met again. Tom's hands moved back up to hold her head.

'Do you want to go to the Christmas Ball with me come Friday?' he genuinely asked, while stroking her hair and face softly.

Hermione almost said yes, but Time moved on. And in the back of her mind something came back to her; something that, somehow, somewhere, and at sometime, had slipped her mind completely. It was the identity of the person she was currently having WAY too much fun with. Shocked, she pushed him away.

'No, of course not,' Hermione blurted out, thinking _"What were you doing?"_ to herself. _"Have you gone mental!"_

Startled, Tom was staring at her. Hermione could see the wheels of his mind turning, and she saw her own shocked expression mirrored in his, when he too realised what had just happened. He stepped away from her, shaking his head, while stuttering: 'This-this … I …'

But he was, apparently, lost for words and fell silent again, eyeing the two books on the floor anxious and suspiciously. And Hermione felt the anger that was building up inside of him.

'This,' Tom resolutely said, and he motioned his hand back and forth between himself and Hermione, clarifying what he meant by _this_. Since, apparently, the words to describe _this_ had gone lost in the process of doing it. 'This can never EVER happen again.'

Hermione couldn't agree more.

Disturbed by what had transpired, they were both watching the illustrious books on top of the rubbish. Tom moved first. He picked up the books and tossed Godric's writings to Hermione. She caught it and immediately started checking the contents, but nothing seemed different. She looked up at Tom, but he was shaking his head already. There was no change in there either.

'Perhaps the solution is in the text,' Tom said thoughtfully. 'Check yours.'

He started scanning the pages of his book, but looked up questioningly when he heard the snort leave Hermione's lips.

'Do you really expect to find an answer to a question about Blood Magic in books that deal with changing Time and Space?' she said smirking.

'In case you've forgotten that too, Granger,' Tom sneered.

Hermione glared at him, cross that he brought that visual up in her mind again.

It made him smirk in return, before continuing. 'The books were doing something weird right before that blast. So maybe it wasn't the Blood-Binding Charm alone. You see, charms like that are not supposed to make you lose your mind,' Tom said rather unflattering. 'Besides, Salazar Slytherin used one on these pages, so he might have an explanation about our situation hidden in here.'

Tom proceeded with scanning the book, while Hermione sighed.

'Slytherin used that Blood-Binding Charm as a protective measure. You do not elaborate on your safeguards inside the volume you're trying to secure. _That_ would be stupid,' Hermione said, irritated.

She, stubbornly, crossed her arms over each other and was holding Infinity in Space closed up to her body. She was absolutely not going to waste her time by looking through a book that would not provide the answers. It was all too frustrating, and she felt like trashing something, but everything was already in shambles, so all that remained was the person that continued his pointless search. Hermione hit him hard in his arm.

'Ouch … Granger,' he said, annoyed. 'What is it with you, and that desire you seem to grave in favour of physical violating my arm?'

'That must be my illustrious Muggle background. However, if you rather I hit you in the face instead, I suppose I could always oblige. Now, stop wasting my time by looking for answers in there,' Hermione said bossily.

'Do not tell me what to do, Granger,' Riddle responded menacingly.

He dropped the book and grabbed a hold of her again... Shocked, they both jumped back. Furious, Hermione looked at him. She mimicked his hand movements from not so long ago and said: 'This is NOT going to happen.'

'You have nothing to worry about, Granger. I feel exactly the same way, remember,' Tom replied aghast.

'Then, by all means, keep your hands to yourself Riddle, because it seems to trigger something,' Hermione said, worried.

'I guess we better stay clear of each other. That way we won't risk any unfortunate events from happening,' Tom said, determined to solve the problem at hand.

'And what do you suggest we do about the Unbreakable Vow? We are obligated to read those books and tell the other what's in them. And let's not forget about that infamous Ballroom that appeared out of nowhere. We have to correct that,' Hermione replied, irritated by his stupid solution.

'Since when does reading involve touching each other, Granger? I'm perfectly okay with staying in one end of the Room, if you can control yourself in the other,' Tom sneered.

'If I can control myself? If I?' Hermione repeated resentful. 'You're the one doing the grabbing Riddle. So if _you_ can control yourself, I suppose we could continue our meetings here safely. How about tomorrow evening?'

'Nope, can't,' Riddle said off-handed.

'The sooner we get this over and done with Riddle, the sooner we can stop seeing each other,' Hermione said through gritted teeth.

'We can reconvene here Tuesday evening at eight. I'm available then,' Riddle decided, and he walked over to the exit.

'Riddle,' Hermione said warningly.

He sighed. 'What is it, Granger? You wanted to do this sooner than later, so what is your problem this time?'

'You still have my wand,' said Hermione, holding out her hand.

He smirked at her. 'Gotta dash.'

And he swirled out the door.

'RIDDLE!' Hermione yelled.

His head popped back inside the Room from behind the door, and an infuriating smile was visible on his face.

'It's in your pocket, dearest. You really need to pay more attention when you're around an enemy.'

He winked at her, before closing the door behind him. And sure enough, there, inside her right pocket, it was.

'How does he do that?' Hermione thought frustrated.

She took one last look at the rubbish, before exiting the Room herself, thinking she certainly wasn't going to clean up after him.

  


* * *

  
The next day Hermione was, finally, allowed access inside the infirmary thanks to the intervention from Professor Dumbledore, and she sat beside the bed of the still sleeping Minerva McGonagall for a long time. Hermione found that the strong, bold Head Girl appeared very small as she lay there, unmoving, tucked into those white linen hospital sheets. She looked extremely pale with the exception of the wounds that were still leaking small drops of blood despite the knitting process. 

A large bottle of Blood-Replenishing Potion stood on the bedside table, and the school nurse came by every half hour to wake Minerva up and make her drink a glass full from it. Minerva merely wrinkled her nose in disgust of the taste and fell immediately back to sleep once she finished the potion. She did smile to Hermione upon noticing her sit there. And Hermione started to read to her from Emma, a story by Jane Austen. Hermione wasn't certain whether Minerva would hear it, but it felt comforting to tell her something familiar that had nothing to do with the reason why she was in the infirmary.

Sunday, Hermione went straight back to the infirmary. Minerva was awake, and they talked shortly about what happened. Minerva never saw her attackers, but she did remember that Tom Riddle was the one, who found her in the corridor and brought her to the infirmary. Hermione told her what she knew from the conversation she overheard.

'They better watch out for Augusta,' Minerva said weakly, 'she already hates Lestrange.'

'I told her not to do anything. That it was too dangerous,' Hermione said, worried.

'I hope that'll help,' said Minerva. And she made an attempt to hoist her shoulders, but it was a bit to painful, so she halted the motion halfway through.

At Minerva's request, Hermione read her some more from Emma, while gradually, the other classmates from Gryffindor sneaked in and out of the infirmary to see Minerva too. Until they all got thrown out by the very angry nurse, who felt laughing was by no means a healing instrument. After she was tossed from the premises, Hermione went to Godric's Room to do some more research on Blood Bonds, but she turned up empty-handed. There was nothing there on multiple bonds.

So after dinner she decided to do her homework, since she wasn't allowed to visit Minerva until tomorrow morning, and Hermione went to the library. The only problem was that she wasn't the only one who had that idea. Tom Riddle was already there. He had a huge number of books all stacked around him at his table. Since he was completely entranced with his work and seated behind the ridiculously large amount of books he had at his disposal there, Hermione decided that she could easily sneak into her personal corner of the library without him noticing. Her private corner was located between the shelves on Charms-Notification and the Eagles of Ravenclaw. She made it there without being seen and started working on her Potions essay. After a couple of hours all she had left to do was her Arithmancy task, and she was about to start, when…

'BANG!'

A loud explosion came from the back of the library, or to be more precise, it came from the Restricted Section. Hermione flew onto her feet and stormed out of her corner to check what happened, wand at the ready. A feeling of utter delight welcomed her, when she saw a dishevelled Tom Riddle lying on the ground. Apparently, he was thrown from the Restricted Section due to the blast of unknown origin. Smiling from ear to ear, Hermione asked him if he was all right. The only response she got to her polite question was some incoherent grumbling, while Riddle scrambled back onto his feet.

'Oh, well, it's not like I cared anyway,' Hermione said happily.

'You're here past your curfew, Evans,' Riddle said sharply, dusting himself off.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him for making such a stupid statement, when she noticed the clock on the library wall. The clock's legs almost reached the number twelve, but that must be wrong. Surely, she could not have been here for so many hours.

'At least I'm not trying to blow up the only library this school has. I guess that means you're going to beat me in the amount of detention that will come of this,' Hermione said cheekily.

But then she frowned. Why hadn't anyone else arrived yet? It wasn't like it had been a soft, quiet blast. And as she turned to watch the library doors curiously, Riddle spoke up. 'I wouldn't be expecting any company if I were you. I used an Imperturbable Charm on the doors and walls.'

With firm strides, he paced back into the Restricted Section and started examining the backdoor.

Hermione snorted.

Riddle gave her a disturbed glance, but continued with what he was doing.

Hermione snickered inside of herself. She knew that was never going to work. So she summoned her belongings and sat at a nearby table to finish her Arithmancy homework. That way she had a clear view of Riddle's obvious attempts to break into the Founders' Section of the library. The firmly secured, and highly protected, Founders' Section. Hermione grinned again. This was going to become incredibly funny.

And indeed it was. Fifteen minutes later, there was another blast. Riddle got thrown into a bookcase and crashed to the floor, followed by every volume on the shelves of said bookcase. Hermione snickered behind her book. She could have prevented those books from falling on top of Slytherin's Heir-Boy, but she was just too busy with her homework, of course.

'I don't think that's ever going to work,' Hermione stated certain, when she noticed Riddle was moving back to the door to give it another go.

'You think, Granger?' was the ironic reply.

'That door was bolted by the Founders themselves. You will never get in there,' Hermione said smugly, ignoring the remark.

'Nothing is impenetrable for Lord Voldemort,' Riddle responded lazily.

That got an even louder snort and some very annoying snickering, from behind an Arithmancy textbook, as a reply.

'Care to lay a wager on that statement of yours, Granger?' Riddle said smoothly.

'What?' Hermione said, eyeing him as if he lost his mind.

'You say that I will not get in there. I say I do. Let's make it interesting, shall we?'

Hermione shook her head. She was now certain he had lost his marbles. That door would only open to the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and to no one else.

'You're nuts. It cannot be done,' she stated.

'Well, if you're _that_ certain, then what's the harm in a little bet? Apparently, you think you've already won. So why not go for it, Granger? There must be something you want from me,' he added casually.

'I don't do bets, Riddle,' Hermione said, but her mind was dwelling on the very attractive possibility that Riddle was, suddenly, presenting her with.

'I knew it. You're not certain. That little statement was a load of crap, merely said to annoy me,' Riddle said smiling.

'Just because someone is not interested in making bets on what they have said, does not mean they don't stand behind what they have said,' Hermione replied indignant.

'Really, you want me to believe, that when presented with an opportunity to get yourself home, you did not take it, because your high moral system forbids it,' Tom said mocking. 'Admit it, Granger, you fear you might lose. You think that I might be able to break in there after all,' Riddle said triumphant, and he appeared very pleased with himself.

Too bloody pleased.

'Alright, you're on. But only if we put a one hour time limit on this trying thing of yours, I don't want to wait until I am one-hundred-and-fifty years of age, before I can claim my winnings,' said Hermione. 'So what would _you_ want, if you're so certain you can make it in there?'

It was silent.

'Can't think of anything, Riddle? Or do you just know you're going to lose this one? I suppose not even Lord Voldemort can break into a section of the library within the hour,' Hermione said, chuckling.

'If I win, you will have to accompany me to the Ball Friday,' Riddle said calmly.

'What?' Hermione said weakly. She was certain she misheard that sentence.

'If you win, I will take you back from where and when you came, and if you lose, you will come with me to the Ball Friday as my date,' Riddle said smirking.

Now, she knew he had gone insane. Had he just forgotten what happened only two days ago? However, she could care less about the Ball. And he did not present her with an impossible request. Sure if she lost, which she wouldn't, but if it were to happen, this dance-thing would be inconvenient, but it was not something she could not overcome. And it was not like they were obligated to dance. They could easily refrain from touching each other. There was no doubt in her mind that Tom would not be interested in any repetition of last Friday's events either. He probably just asked her to use her as an excuse to serve to the more clinging girls. So she accepted his bet's term quickly, before he could think of something more substantial to ask from her.

'What ever you want, Riddle,' Hermione said, and she made a dismissive wave with her hand, while picking up her parchment. She noticed she had made an error in the calculations and began scribbling the figures down again.

'So we have a deal then? The bet is on?' Riddle asked eager.

'I thought I already said yes,' Hermione said, annoyed at the interruption.

'Wonderful. It is now almost midnight. I'll start at precisely twelve o'clock, that way, when the clock strikes one, we will know immediately who will have to eat her words,' Riddle said, incredibly happy.

A half hour later an angry growl emanated from underneath yet another stack of books. The protections surrounding the door had launched Tom throughout the library again and he had crashed into another bookcase. Hermione was scribbling on her parchment in sheer pleasure. She knew it was impossible. It had been tried so many times over the due course of history, and no one had succeeded. No one.

Hermione looked up and watched Riddle standing in front of the blackened door. He was rubbing his hands through his jet-black hair, making it quite a mess. If she peered at him between narrowed eyelids and tilted her head slightly, he could almost be Harry, almost. But she had to peer really, really hard in order to achieve that feat. Tom swirled around in anger and a green dash flew from his wand. The Killing Curse rammed the door, and bounced back. Hermione widened her eyes when she saw it hurtle towards her, and she let herself fall sideways out of her chair. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up straight as The Curse tore away a part of her shirt's sleeve, when it passed, before it impacted upon the bookcase behind her, blowing it completely out of the way.

'Are you crazy!' she bellowed, from behind the table. 'Could you, at least, look before you throw one of those around?'

The absolute lack of a response was even more upsetting, and Hermione scrambled back onto her feet feeling quite ferociously. She watched the utterly destroyed bookcase for a moment and strode over to where Riddle was standing. He was examining the stupid door again.

'Riddle,' Hermione hissed.

'Not even a scratch,' he said, puzzled. 'Look,' and he turned to face her, pointing at the door.

That was a mistake. Hermione gave him a hard push with both hands, and he stumbled backwards.

'Not a scratch! Not a scratch!' she repeated furiously as she passed the door, while showing him her torn sleeve. 'And have you even seen what you did to the bookcase over there! You know if you're trying to kill me, at least have the decency to aim.'

'If you insis…'

A piece of parchment glowed, unnoticed. And a soft click, followed by a bright light emanating from behind Hermione, interrupted the argument. Hermione stood frozen to the spot. It couldn't be. It just could not be. But the surprise on the face before her quickly vanished, and it was replaced by a happy and very smug expression that validated her fears. She turned and saw with resentment, which surpassed her astonishment that the Founders' Section had opened on its own accord. Riddle strode past her and entered.

'Perfect. And it's not even a quarter to one,' he said triumphantly.

'This doesn't count,' Hermione said feeble, 'you weren't the one who opened it.'

'Desperately searching for straws, Granger?' said an amused voice from inside the Section. 'You lose; I win, as you knew I would. Now, where is that book I need?'

That sentence shook Hermione right out of her pondering on the unfairness of life in general, and she followed him in. It wasn't a big place. There were only two very short rows of bookshelves. Besides four desks underneath an enchanted window, there wasn't much to look at. It was a bit disappointing to say the least. It just wasn't what you would expect of a place that harvested the title Section of the Founders. Over the past six years of her Hogwarts' education, Hermione had made up many images on what this Section would look like and this wasn't even close.

'What book are you looking for, Riddle?' Hermione asked sharply, seeing him pull a volume from the shelf.

'Oh, just something on the effects of multiple Blood Bonds,' he casually said, while flipping through the leaves of the book he was currently holding.

'There is no point in that,' Hermione rebutted. 'I have not seen any literature on what kind of effects two of those charms could have on people.'

'Three,' Riddle corrected. 'Yours, mine, and Slytherin's. Maybe four if Gryffindor placed one in there as well, but I doubt a goody two-shoes like him would have used…'

'So, three of those charms,' Hermione interrupted him impatiently. 'There simply is no literature on multiple Blood-Binding Charms, because you usually only need one.'

'Actually, there is,' Tom said. 'The book is just … a bit hard to get your hands on. So I am hoping there's a copy here, somewhere.' And Tom placed the book he retrieved from the shelf back and started scanning the books further down the row.

'What book, exactly, are you searching for?' Hermione enquired suspiciously, and she followed him to make sure she would get a clear identification of the next book he would take from the shelf.

'A book that former Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black has wisely moved here from the British Museum after a bunch of Muggles became too interested in its contents. I just hope none of the fools that inhabited the Head's Office after him have moved the book again.'

Hermione narrowed her eyes. This would by no means be a nice, fluffy romance novel. 'There are no records of Headmaster Black removing any books from the British Museum.'

'I know,' Riddle smirked, 'his painting told me. He's a wonderful source of information that man. Keeps me up-to-date on everything he hears in Dippet's office.'

'This certainly wasn't pleasant news,' Hermione thought, knowing full well that she had a frame in her beaded bag that the former Headmaster could inhabit.

Hermione saw a flash of annoyance fly through Riddle's face. He shook his head. 'Why am I telling you all these things?' he said through gritted teeth. 'I have to find that damn book and get a solution to our predicament.'

'What book?' Hermione asked quickly, hoping that for whatever reason Riddle seemed to be letting things slip, he would add this to the list as well. And sure enough he did.

'The Necronomicom,' he answered.

Hermione practically had a heart attack. 'That book could not possibly be here. They could not keep something like that in a school. Someone had to have moved it,' she thought frantically, but a shout of joy from the other row proved her wrong.

By the time she got there, he was already holding the book in his hands, watching it with idolisation spread in his eyes. It was a large, seemingly heavy, brown book. The leather on the cover was weathered, giving away a minor indication of the book's age. A dark-brown belt, with an iron buckle and three iron nodes, was rapped around the centre of the book, holding it closed. And a blue robe with a large knot, which was obviously designed to be a page marker, bungled from the book nonchalantly.

Riddle tapped on the nodes with his wand and pointed it at the buckle. A chant was spoken. _'Let them curse it that curse the day, who are skilful to rouse the leviathan.'_

A dark, black flash, a buckle unlocked, and the book of the dead opened up. Hermione pulled out her wand, while Tom Riddle was watching the leaves turning intensely, until they stopped at a predestined page.

'Put down the book,' Hermione ordered, while raising her wand at Tom.

'Incantations of the Blood,' he muttered, reading out loud and ignoring her threatening posture.

'Accio Necronomicom,' Hermione said, but nothing happened.

Riddle merely pointed to the ceiling with his free hand. 'Anti-Spell-Wards,' he said lazily.

'How come that chant of yours worked under these wards?' she asked, confused.

'The power of the Necronomicom overrides the Founders' Wards,' Riddle answered simply.

Hermione frowned. She bit her lip. What if the answer to their binding problems was in there? She lowered her wand and moved next to him quickly, so they were both reading the page that handled the "do's and don'ts of multiple Blood-Binding-Charms". It was a huge disappointment or a tremendous relief. She wasn't sure on what the best outcome would have been for her. Though the Necronomicom did describe the physiological effects of multiple charms on the individual it was cast upon, it gave no explanation to what happened to them in the Room of Requirement. As a matter of fact, it gave no listing of any mind-altering symptoms at all.

'It must be something else that caused it then,' Tom said thoughtful, while Hermione read the footnote. It referred to the Grimoire as a source of literature. She was hoping Riddle would skip the footnote.

'Oh, great, another easy to obtain volume,' Riddle said sarcastically.

Apparently, he also read footnotes. Riddle slammed the book shut and started walking towards the exit with it.

'You can't take that book with you,' Hermione hissed, 'they'll realise that it's missing.'

'I say let them…,' Tom snarled, but the book suddenly flew out of his hands and landed back on the shelf.

For a while Tom Riddle tried all kinds of things to take the book with him, but somehow, every time he was about to cross the doorway of the Founders' Section, the book flew back to the shelf on its own accord. Hermione got bored with watching it and went back into the library to finish her Arithmancy homework. Eventually, Tom had to consort to his defeat and left the Section without it. The door flew shut the moment he exited, and Hermione had a feeling it wasn't going to open again any time soon. Riddle grabbed his belongings and was about to leave.

'Aren't you forgetting something?' Hermione asked, while pointing towards the destroyed bookcase. 'Unless, of course, you want to leave evidence of your little temper issues.'

Tom paced back, and dumped his bag next to hers on the table. Hermione was gathering her things, while he started reassembling the bookcase and the books. By the time Hermione was done packing, Tom was done fixing. He grabbed his bag, and was, suddenly, giving her a broad smile.

'Well, I guess that little break-in wasn't completely useless. I'll pick you up at eight,' Tom said. 'Oh, and don't worry about a dress, I'll find you one.'

'I can get my own clothes, thank you very much,' Hermione said, irritated.

'Ah, but it's what I want, Hermione. After all, that is what you so kindly offered to me, even though I did not ask for an addition like that on our bet,' Tom said happily.

Hermione was confused. 'What was he blabbering about?' she thought. She had not said anything about him getting her a dress to the Ball.

' _What ever you want, Riddle,'_ Tom repeated Hermione's words precisely, and he even mimicked her dismissive hand waving. 'I believe that is what you said, right before we sealed the bet.'

The enormity of her statement crashed down on Hermione like a ton of bricks. And she was still standing in the library after Riddle had left ages ago.  
  
---


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Nurse Ratchet belongs to Ken Kesey. He can keep her, by the way. (winks).

* * *

**Masters of Manipulation**

**Chapter fifteen**

Obviously, Minerva wasn't pleased. That much was clear to Hermione and also to the normally very distracted Ernest Lovegood. The Gryffindor Head Girl sat against a bundle of cushions in her bed inside the infirmary, but even though she was still in a weakened condition and needed Blood-Replenishing Potion every hour, her mind was very awake. And she sure as hell was telling Hermione off about her little lapse in judgement.

'I know, I know. You don't have to rub it in, Minerva. You're not the one who's stuck with him come Friday,' Hermione finally snapped, after listening patiently to the tirade for quite some time. 'Besides, you better stop raising your voice now, before Nurse Ratchet over there throws us out.'

'Who?' Ernest asked, confused.

'Never mind, it's a Muggle thing,' Hermione replied.

Minerva was quiet for a moment, but she changed the subject back to the books. Apparently, she felt that Hermione would have enough punishment coming to visit soon.

'How are we doing with the books? Do we have any lead on Helga's yet?' Minerva asked softly.

Hermione shook her head. 'There is nothing to find on Hufflepuff's book. Pomona checked a large number of sources. It's almost as though that book never existed. Really, Helga Hufflepuff did a fine job in hiding her knowledge. So all I know is that Gellert Grindelwald has Rowena's, and he could have that book stacked anywhere in Europe. I have no idea where to start looking.'

'Can't you wait until he's, you know, gone,' Minerva whispered to her, so that Ernest would not hear what she said. But Ernest wouldn't have heard her, if she had shouted it in his ear, because he was still paying attention to the school nurse. Hermione figured he was probably making up a story about a Ratchet of some kind.

'I thought about that,' said Hermione to Minerva, 'but the problem is that we will have finished the ones from Godric and Salazar long before that. And I doubt Riddle will need me around once he has got what he needs. I have to get to that book now, before we're done.'

'You can't go to Germany, Hermione. It is too dangerous. It's what you said; you don't know where to start looking. And you're British and a Muggle-born witch. Grindelwald's forces will kill you, if you go over there.'

Lovegood was nodding in affirmation of Minerva's statement. It was ludicrous to even think about doing something like that, but Hermione, apparently, had other ideas. And she was somewhat thinking about executing them. She already had established the perfect day to do it, namely come Friday. And the longer she thought about it, the more attractive the idea of leaving this castle on Friday became. All she needed to find out was where Gellert Grindelwald would hide a book.

'Professor Dumbledore might know where he stashed the book,' Hermione said, thoughtful. She had been considering that possibility, ever since she found out who owned Ravenclaw's volume in this day and age.

Minerva gave her a surprised glance. 'What do you mean? Why would he know? They're not exactly friends. Dumbledore is the only one who Grindelwald is afraid of. That's why he hasn't come to Britain yet,' Minerva said somewhat upset.

Hermione didn't have the heart to tell Minerva what she knew about the friendship that once existed between her favourite Professor and the current dark wizard. So she came up with an, in her eyes rather lame, excuse and told Minerva that Dumbledore might have a shrewd idea on the matter, purely theoretically speaking of course. Minerva seemed to find that a reasonable explanation and Hermione was relieved she left it at that.

Hermione and Ernest were about to leave the infirmary to go to their next classes, because their lunch-break was almost over, when the door opened and the Scourge of the Nation entered. Hermione was shocked to see he wasn't alone. Tom Riddle was levitating a severely injured Rodolphus Lestrange.

'Augusta, you idiot,' whispered Minerva underneath her breath. 'And I thought we were in the clear when nothing happened during the weekend.'

The school nurse came running down the isle between the empty beds. 'Oh dear, oh dear, just put him in the bed over there, Mister Riddle.'

And she pointed toward the bed on the far end of the infirmary. She started fussing about Rodolphus's wounds the minute his body hit the sheets. Several bottles of Potions were visibly opened, before a pair of bed curtains flew close on their own accord, blocking the view on Lestrange and the nurse, but not on Riddle, who remained standing in the isle.

'What has happened to this dear boy?' the nurse asked, sounding concerned, while attending to Lestrange, who was out cold.

'It appears he was attacked by someone,' Tom said politely to nurse, but he deliberately said it loud enough, so Hermione's little group on the other end of the infirmary could hear it too, and he was eyeing them from across the isle intently.

'Not good,' Ernest said, understating the matter, and he grabbed his bag. 'Are you coming, Hermione? I believe it would be a prudent idea to get away from this area.'

Hermione felt it would be a prudent idea to get away from the planet, and she swore to herself that she was going to strangle Neville's grandmother the next time she saw her. She halted Ernest before he left.

'Ernest, could you warn Pomona about this, then I'll see if I can locate Rubeus,' Hermione said quietly.

'I have Herbology with Pomona next, so I can certainly warn her. But how are you going to find Rubeus, Hermione? You have Carefoch now, if I'm not mistaken, and she can be utterly foul to students who skip her class.'

'She can take some points from Slytherin on my behalf. I really don't care. I have bigger fish to fry than Professor Carefoch,' Hermione said, determined.

She picked up her bag and left the infirmary, waving goodbye to a worried Minerva. Hermione scouted the grounds vigorously, until she found Rubeus. He took the situation rather light-hearted, but Hermione felt relieved that, at least, he was aware of what had transpired now. She scolded Augusta one more time in her mind and walked back to the castle, contemplating on the situation.

Ever since Minerva involved the others, Hermione felt things had got messier. Sure, she was somewhat aware of the whereabouts of Mind over Matter because of them, but it had been very hard to keep them in the dark of the future. And because they were still in the dark about almost everything, they did not take matters with the same seriousness as Minerva did. Their involvement was a potential threat to their and Hermione's future.

Hermione did not feel up to one of Carefoch's famous tirades, and she was planning to avoid it by skipping Charms altogether and wait for her next lesson in the library. So she was walking down the corridor in that direction, when she got tugged by the arm and was thrown into an empty classroom. She felt that same, strange, jolting sensation again, as she had before on their contact, but he let go of her arm quickly enough. It appeared she wasn't the only Slytherin Charms' truant.

'Evans, I think it would be wise if you were to explain to that merry little band of yours that I will not, and I repeat, NOT allow any more attacks to take place on any Slytherin in this castle. And you best make sure they understand that, otherwise I will personally do the explaining,' Tom warned shortly, and he swirled out the door.

Hermione stood perplexed at this unusual behaviour. That was it?

'What a short speech, for him,' she thought stunned, and she left the classroom to continue her walk towards the library. She was walking in deep concentration, reminiscing over the events that happened and would be happening, when…

'Miss Evans, aren't you supposed to be in the Charms' classroom right now?' said Professor Dumbledore curiously.

Hermione jerked in surprise of hearing the sudden voice and she turned around to see him standing in the doorway to the Transfiguration's classroom. It was empty. And the man, who might be able to answer her Grindelwald problem, was watching her with a pair of twinkling light blue eyes.

'Well, uh… I… uh… had some urgent matters to attend to,' Hermione said feeling rather uneasy. 'Professor, can I ask you something personal, in private?'

Dumbledore looked at her over his half moon glasses and said: 'Certainly, as long as it doesn't involve my mishaps with a pair of Muggle binoculars.'

Hermione shook her head. It most definitely was not about something that innocent.

Dumbledore motioned her in and closed the door behind her. 'Have a lemon drop. I find that they help a lot in situations like these,' he said kindly to a nervous looking Hermione, and he offered her the bowl that contained them.

Hermione took one. It was an excellent way to stall for time, because she had no idea on how to begin and what she was going to say. She already regretted approaching the man. He probably didn't even have the answer.

'Sir, Professor, I need to find a book, and I think Gellert Grindelwald might be in possession of it,' Hermione blurted it out.

'I see,' Dumbledore said, sounding a bit disappointed. 'I thought I warned you about the dangers of that particular volume you have in custody, Miss Evans. You would do wise to find a way home. Not seek the others.'

'I have to,' Hermione said softly.

'And why is that, Miss Evans?' Dumbledore asked.

'I just have to.'

Dumbledore watched her for a moment, and then, he sighed. 'Those books contain far more than knowledge, Hermione. Surely you've realised the threat they possess by now. I cannot help you any further, especially since you, suddenly, seem in league with Tom Riddle.'

'I'm not involved with Tom Riddle,' Hermione said cross. 'I have a task to finish. And I need your help. Where would Gellert Grindelwald stash a dangerous and valuable book? I know you have the answer, Professor. I know you share a past with him.'

Dumbledore, abruptly, stood up out of his chair, but his voice sounded calm, when he said: 'This conversation is over, Miss Evans. I must inform you that I never respond to threats, never.'

'That wasn't a threat!' Hermione shouted, outraged at the thought. 'I have to destroy those books, Professor, and I need them all to do so. I know who holds the Elder Wand beholds Mind over Matter. I have to get to it, before…'

But Dumbledore interrupted her. 'It's pointless, Miss Evans. Gellert would never allow a book like that lying around. He will have placed it under heavy security. You will not get near it. It would be best to forget it ever existed.'

'I can't,' Hermione said, feeling hopeless. 'I just can't. We will all lose if I do.'

'Then so be it. I can not allow a student of Hogwarts to wander off to Durmstrang. It's too dangerous, Miss Evans. You will be killed when they realise who and what you are. Gellert does not respect your background. No matter how intelligent you are, he will order your death.'

'I know. Believe me, I lived it, I know. Voldemort is just as bad, if not worse than he is. That's why I need to get the book. Professor, I'm certain the Elder Wand will go to Lord Voldemort. I have to get the book now. I cannot wait. Will you help me, please?'

'I can't, Miss Evans,' Dumbledore said softly.

He had wandered toward the window and was looking outside. Though Hermione had a feeling, he wasn't taking in any of the outside landscape.

'I'm never getting near Gellert again, ever. I can't. It's just too…,' but he did not finish the sentence, and continued staring out the window in silence.

Hermione looked utterly disappointed at her role model for all these years. And she felt her temper rise, when she considered everything this man had sent Harry out to do for him. All those ordeals Harry had gone through, because he had manipulated him into going. This fully grown adult had sent a child to do deeds he did not dare do himself. He was just standing there, letting his old friend roam Europe, hiding away in this castle. She just knew that was what he was doing. Grindelwald wasn't afraid of Dumbledore. It was the other way around!

And she left the classroom quickly, before she would act on that building rage. It was a rage she recognised, and she realised Tom Riddle or Salazar's book did not have to be around her anymore for his influence to seep into her character. She ran up to Godric's Room and sat on the bed for a while, crying her eyes out. She did not know how to end this. She did not know how to get the job done that Helga Hufflepuff had given her. She would fail miserably and everyone would suffer because of her failure.

'I'm so sorry Harry. I'm so sorry,' she muttered. 'I don't know where to find that b… DURMSTRANG! Dumbledore said I could not go to Durmstrang. That's where the book is hidden! It has to be.'

And she started pacing the Room, thinking about every detail Viktor had told her about the Durmstrang Institute, hoping to find some clue to the whereabouts of Mind over Matter. And she recalled the argument between Krum and Luna's father. It was about Grindelwald's sign. Grindelwald had drawn it somewhere on a wall in the Durmstrang castle. Harry had told her all about what Krum had said to him about Lovegood's necklace after the wedding. What if it wasn't a mere drawing? What if it marked the entrance to something? Gellert Grindelwald would not have been likely to just carve the walls of Durmstrang for no reason at all. She had to check it out. She first needed to make some preparations, but Friday still sounded like a very fine time to leave this castle and move onto the next. She realised it was about time for her DADA lesson, and she cleaned herself up a bit and went downstairs. Her mind, however, was still dwelling on all the things she would need to acquire to go unnoticed on her little journey, and she sat down at a desk absentmindedly.

'Today will be a practical, and … Miss Evans? Miss Evans!'

Hermione felt someone nudge her warningly in the side. It was Lucretia Black. Lucretia nodded her head towards Professor Merrythought, who was watching Hermione sternly with her arms crossed over each other.

'I'm sorry, Professor, I wasn't aware you had started the lesson already,' Hermione apologised.

Galatea Merrythought nodded understandingly. 'That happens to the best of us sometimes, Miss Evans. But I take this lack of attention also means you've dealt with Boggarts in your classes at Durmstrang?'

Hermione stared at the witch in disbelieve. She had to have heard this incorrectly. Boggarts were a part of the third year curriculum, and that was what she answered the professor.

'I know, Miss Evans. It also is at Hogwarts,' the professor replied. 'Only for some reason, I've been unable to get an actual Boggart for a practise run in this class, and just in case it does become a part of the NEWT-exams, I feel its important for you all to have, at least, faced one before those finals.'

And Merrythought turned to address all the seventh years that were in today. Hermione heard some angry whispers behind her and she looked around to tell off the person who was interrupting her ability to listen to Merrythought. Because even if it was about something as boring as Boggarts, Hermione still wanted to hear what the professor had to say. Only the whispering came from Riddle and he seemed pretty pissed with Mulciber. So she turned back forwards and tried to tune into the conversation behind her.

'I did not know she obtained a new one. Avery destroyed the last. I thought we were in the clear,' Mulciber whispered.

'I told you to keep an eye on Merrythought, and to make sure there would be no such thing as a Boggart Practical in this class. I did not tell you to _think_ that we might be in the clear,' Riddle hissed back.

Hermione found this very amusing. Lord Voldemort did not want to face a measly Boggart? She snorted and leaned backwards in her chair, while whispering: 'What's the matter, Riddle? Scared of the bogeyman?'

There was no reply at first and Hermione was about to make another snide comment, when Tom leaned forward and whispered softly in her ear: 'I had no idea you would see no problem in sharing your deepest fears with this entire class, Evans. I can tell you right now that _I_ , for one, will be very interested in observing it, dearest.'

Hermione bit her lip. She had not thought about the lesson in that way. This was indeed most inconvenient. During her third year at Hogwarts her Boggart had been Professor McGonagall telling her she failed all her classes. She still remembered very clearly how annoyingly loud Ron had laughed about that, since he, obviously, felt that the day Hermione Granger would fail one lesson was the day the world would stop rotating. She watched the wardrobe that stood behind Merrythought's desk. She doubted very much her Boggart would still be that harmless. She had seen too much, worried about too many dreadful things. But what could it be? Voldemort succeeding? Harry and Ron dying?

And, suddenly, she knew, she realised what her Boggart would be. It was something she had been concerned about ever since she first heard Lord Voldemort had resurrected. It was one of the reasons why she had moved her parents to a safer location after Dumbledore died and his wards around her parents' house were compromised. Her Boggart would be herself, betraying The Order of the Phoenix to Lord Voldemort in order to safeguard her parents' life. And there was no way she could allow Riddle to witness that. It was too informative for him. But how could she possibly stop…?'

A smile broke through on Hermione's face when a rather mischievous thought entered her mind. She turned her head sideways, so she could take a good look at Riddle's expression when she told him in front of his 'friend', her Boggart would probably behold another kissing session with him. She couldn't have dropped a bigger bomb. Mulciber was staring at her wide-eyed and with sheer disbelieve painted all over his face, while Riddle merely narrowed his eyes at her triumphant grinning.

'Any thoughts on how I can turn _that_ into something to laugh about, my darling Thomas,' she said mockingly, and she continued in that same tone. 'But maybe I don't have to. I'm sure the rest of the students will do all the laughing for me, don't you think? I'm willing to bet you that my fear of your kissing abilities will make it across this castle within twenty-four hours. I wonder what it will do to your impeccable reputation. Just how many of those fan-girls do you think will remain after this news hits the streets? But maybe you'll get lucky. There may be a couple of them, who are willing to teach you how to do it properly and save you from a life without love.'

Hermione started snickering at seeing the appalled face Riddle pulled on that concept. She knew for a fact that he despised the clinging and giggling of those girls, and that, very same clinging and holding onto each other, would no doubt get a lot worse if Hermione's made-up Boggart would become public knowledge. She was keeping her fingers crossed that he would not call her bluff or tell her she was lying. But he seemed too disturbed with Hermione's revelation that he did neither. A few minutes later, not even Merrythought's defensive capabilities were strong enough to stop the huge fireball, which erupted out of nowhere in the back of the class. The Dark Lord's wrath caused everyone to run for cover and the Boggart never stood a chance.

Hermione felt victorious the entire day after that lesson, and the feeling had not subsided when she woke up the next morning. She was incredibly happy about her little ploy, and how it had turned out. But she was even more pleased about the fact that Riddle had not picked up on her lie for whatever reason. And she remembered what he had said a few days ago.

' _You really need to pay more attention when you're around an enemy.'_

'You too, Riddle, you too,' she thought, grinning.

Her day remained wonderful without any nasty incidents and her euphoric mood expanded tremendously, infecting all those in her presence. She passed the hidden door of the Room of Requirement three times to go to another meeting with the Head Boy, whom she had cleverly fooled. Upon opening the door, she noticed Tom was already in the Room and he was reading from Eternity in Time. It certainly explained why she had felt so rushed in coming here. The prick, practically, had forced her to come and it was not even eight o'clock yet. But he had also taken the decency of cleaning up the rubble and replacing the furniture, before she got there. And he had taken a seat in the far end of the Room, so she figured she could let it slide this time. After all, she was still in a very, very good mood.

'That's not what Slytherin meant when he said that,' Hermione said argumentative. 'You're twisting things around to fit your own view of Time in order to accommodate the text for your needs. I don't believe for a single second it's as simple as that.'

'Granger, I just read it to you from a book. And we all know how much you value everything that is written down,' Tom mockingly said, while rolling his eyes during the last sentence.

'And we all know how much you always want to prove an author's insanity, so why stop at that delightful habit right now,' Hermione retorted, matching his sarcasm.

'Where is that sentence?' Tom said to himself, ignoring Hermione's pun.

And he grabbed the book that lay on the table between them. Somewhere down the line, they had forgotten about their previous resolve to establish distant seating arrangements, since arguing about the contents of their notes turned out to be a bit hard to do from halfway across the Room. So here they were, seated next to each other, taking down notes on the theory inside the books, while disagreeing firmly on the contents and its meaning. Tom flipped through the pages to find the bit of information what supported his position, and he started reading out loud.

'In order to make lasting changes…,' he read to her smugly. 'Lasting changes, Granger. It says so right here. Unless you're saying, I wrote the book instead of Salazar, I think it is clear what he meant by that.'

'You're completely ignoring the rest of the text that surrounds that sentence. You'll need to see the context in order to fully appreciate the line. And the context clearly indicates that Time is not linear, and if that is the case, then the ability to make lasting changes in Time is not possible,' Hermione repudiated.

'Yet, here we are, going to a Christmas Ball this Friday. An event that I never even heard of before in my entire life, but it, apparently, is some kind of an annual tradition,' Tom refuted.

'Perhaps Time has not been around to correct the error, yet,' Hermione rebutted.

'Oh, please,' Tom said, giving the ceiling an ironic, hopeful eye. 'Let's keep our fingers crossed that Time does so before Friday, shall we? That way, we can avoid that entire dreadful event altogether.'

'As I recall correctly, Riddle, it was your idea to ask me to come with you. If you, suddenly, don't feel up to it, feel free to inform me about it. I have no objection to us not going together to that Dance whatsoever,' Hermione firmly stated.

'You're not a good listener, Granger. I said the event was dreadful. I made absolutely no remarks about the company,' Tom responded softly, and he quickly continued on the business at hand. 'Besides, even if Time is not linear, it doesn't automatically mean that it can not be changed permanently. You're being awfully narrow-minded in your take on Time. It's obvious that it requires some creative thinking.' He turned in his chair to face her.

'Oh, you mean the kind of thinking that would deem it wise to create multiple Horcruxes. Well, that certainly puts me in my place. I forgot how valid and sound those ideas are,' Hermione said mockingly.

'Hmm… That is such a typical statement for a Gryffindor. They all marvel at the concept of dying heroically,' Tom sneered, and he continued his display in an overly dramatic posture, throwing his arms in the air while speaking. 'Please, let us all weep for the brave, dying hero, who threw his life away for the Cause, because he did not have the brains in order to prevent himself from getting killed and win the battle for real.'

'There are some things worth dying for, Riddle. Besides, it happens to everyone, and it's not the end of the world you deem it to be.' Hermione had placed her arm on the back of her chair, and she was now eyeing Tom with righteous determination.

'That's where you are wrong, Granger. Dying is a foul, low some, human weakness, and I will never let myself be tarnished by it,' Tom spat at her.

Hermione shook her head in silence and she put her attention back to her parchment to see what the last thing was that she had scribbled down. It was pointless arguing with him about his fear of death. He would never see his error in judgement, until it was too late to fix it. But she felt his eyes prick in the back of her head, when she used her quill to scratch out the sentence, they had disagreed upon.

'So we disagree on the possibility of permanent change, but we do agree that Time is not linear and has certain recurring aspects?' Hermione calmly asked, and she waited for Tom's positive reply, before writing it down.

She was in the middle of her sentence, when he, suddenly, caressed her hair. 'You really care, don't you, Hermione,' he stated.

It was said as an observation, not a question. Hermione put down her quill and leaned back in her chair. She did not look at him, but she was thinking about what he had just said. Did she care? Really? About him? No, that couldn't be.

And that indescribable feeling was flowing through her body again, because Tom had not stopped touching her. He was now rubbing the back of her neck softly. And strangely enough, that weird electrical feeling did not disturb her as much as it had done before, so she did not pull away from him. It also didn't seem to disturb Riddle anymore, because he did not pull away from her either. It felt quite comfortable, familiar, and nice. Hermione closed her eyes for a second as she enjoyed the sensation. She turned her head and looked him straight in his eyes, and she said: 'Yes, I care. I care if someone with so much potential squanders it by striving after ridiculous concepts.'

That made him pull back, and Hermione felt a strong sense of loss when their contact was disengaged. And she wondered if Riddle felt the same, because he looked as distressed as she felt. They finished their meeting rather quickly after that and they left the Room each in a different direction.

'This is getting utterly disturbing,' Hermione thought.

After a short detour across the fifth floor, she returned to the seventh floor corridor and entered Godric's Room. She was busy assembling the stuff she might need on her little trip abroad to the Durmstrang Institute. Hermione had used one of her Hogwarts robes in order to Transfigure that into a Durmstrang outfit, which consisted of the classical deep blood red robes and the winter coat made from a shaggy, matted fur she had seen in her fourth year. From what Viktor had told her, it would be extremely cold there this time of year, so she made sure to add some decent gloves, and a pair of sturdy snow boots.

She grabbed her beaded bag and tossed the entire contents on the floor. Hermione, quickly, placed Phineas' frame back in there, before he would visit and see his surroundings. And then, she went through the rest of her belongings. She was planning to take the bag with her, since it would come in handy. But she did not want to be captured with it, and then have it reveal where and, most importantly, when she was really from. Hermione immediately tossed out several books, which were clearly from the wrong publication date, as well as a couple of potions that had been invented by Professor Snape. Those potions also had to stay out of her bag, but she was a bit reluctant about parting with them. The Weasley Twin Joke Shop Stuff had to remain behind also, but she did take the Peruvian Darkness Powder with her, since that powder was around today and she could definitely see the benefits in having that with her.

Finally, she was almost through checking her belongings. She picked up the last bit. It was a jar filled with a foul smelling, dark brown ointment, and she was tossing it back and forth between her hands. Dumbledore had said she would have need for it in the past, meaning in this day and age. But could she afford to take it with her? Hermione had no idea what the contents was. She had done some research on smelly ointments, but her search had turned up empty. At least in 1944 it did. She placed it back on the bed. It probably wasn't a good idea to bring it with her, if Lord Voldemort had invented it…

Hermione decided to go back to her dormitory and sleep on the matter. After all, she could always make a decision on whether or not to bring the wretched jar with her later on. If only those two idiots would have been a bit more forthcoming about the contents, she would know whether or not it was safe to travel with it.

'But noooo,' she grudgingly thought, 'we'll have to play the big mystery game.'

And for a brief moment, she remembered Hagrid had tried to warn her about something.

' _We'll look after Harry, Hermione. He'll be all right. You, on the other hand, Hermione, you need to avoid...'_

'I need to avoid what? The Durmstrang Institute? Grindelwald? Riddle? The Christmas Ball?' she thought, snickering at the latter.

There were just too many possibilities, if only Dumbledore had not interrupted Hagrid. She sighed tiresome. Perhaps tomorrow would bring the solution. And she stepped in between the sheets of her bed. Hermione fell asleep the moment her head hit her pillow.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The song text belongs to Kate Bush and I was only thinking of it during Tom and Hermione's dance scene. I make no money from it either. What else is new? grins...

* * *

**Masters of Manipulation**

_Out on the wiley, windy moors  
We'd roll and fall in green.  
Yo_ _u had a temper like my jealousy  
Too hot, too greedy.  
How could you leave me,  
When I needed to possess you?  
I hated you. I loved you, too_

_Bad dreams in the night.  
You told me I was going to lose the fight,  
Leave behind my wuthering, wuthering  
Wuthering Heights._

_Heathcliff, it's me- I'm Cathy.  
I've come home. I´m so cold!  
Let me in-a-your window._

_Ooh, it gets dark! It gets lonely,  
On the other side from you.  
I pine a lot. I find a lot  
Falls through without you.  
I'm coming back, love.  
Cruel Heathcliff, my one dream,  
My only master._

_Too long I roam in the night.  
I'm coming back to his side, to put it right.  
I'm coming home to wuthering, wuthering,  
Wuthering Heights._

_Heathcliff, it's me- I'm Cathy.  
I've come home. I´m so cold!  
Let me in-a-your window._

_Ooh! Let me have it.  
Let me grab your soul away.  
Ooh! Let me have it.  
Let me grab your soul away.  
You know it's me-Cathy!_

Kate Bush, Wuthering Heights.

**Chapter sixteen**

Hermione was running down this long and winding road that was covered with thick layers of snow. She had no idea how long she had been in this desolate place, but she had to get away from this castle, quickly, before it was too late. Her body ached from the various cuts and bruises, which were brushing against the fabric of her clothes with every step that she took. Her arm was clutching onto her belly, trying to stop the gushing of blood that was a result of the curse that had struck her. But even if she still would have had her wand, she could not have stopped to try and heal it. They were too close. They would find her, and she would be dead. A burning fire lit up the dark night sky behind her. Hermione swirled around and panicked as she noticed the abnormally large flames, which rose above the trees. They were a distinct sign of the use of Fiendfyre. She saw the fire turn into an enormous flaming Chimaera and she knew who that gigantic fiery beast was sent out to pursue. She turned away to continue running, but there he stood, right in her path, the tall, curly blond-haired wizard, who terrorised millions. His wand was raised at her.

'Avada Kedavra!'

The flash of green light blinded her eyesight, before Hermione woke up. She was seated in her bed, covered in sweat, and trembling with fear as her hand quickly moved to her stomach to check if there really was no wound there. She needed the physical confirmation that it had all been a very bad dream. That it wasn't real. That she wasn't on the grounds of Durmstrang, and that she wasn't just killed by Gellert Grindelwald. It was six o'clock in the morning on Friday the twenty-third of December and in sixteen hours Hermione would go to the place she just dreamt about. She really hoped her dream wasn't a bad omen.

When she fell back into her pillow, she noticed the box that had been placed on her nightstand, while she was sleeping. Apparently, the other dark wizard, that plagued her with his presence, had made one more trip into the girl's dormitory. And the underlying message of delivering it in this manner wasn't wasted on Hermione. _I can get to you anywhere._ She was beginning to feel slightly resentful towards the Founders for not making the protective measures on the staircase a bit more secure.

Actually, when she started to think about it, all of it was their entire fault to begin with. The stupid Chamber of Secrets; the damn Basilisk; the freaking books; the dumbfounded bigotry; the nutty idea of making different Houses, oh, and let's not forget the library incident, because she was certain Riddle hadn't done anything to open that blasted door. Hermione growled inwardly. She never should have taken Helga's assignment. Those Founders were not to be trusted, none of them. All they had done was making sure that the likes of Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley could not enter the girl's dormitories, because, well, everybody knew how much of a threat they were to girls. Hermione rolled her eyes to the ceiling, before she ripped off the envelope that was attached to the box. The note was pretty short. Hermione was certain it was added later on just to spite her.

' _You look beautiful when you sleep, very nice and quiet. I hope you like the dress. Tom'_

'Prick,' she thought, 'like you care about what I like.'

And she tossed the note away, hopped out of bed and went off to take a shower without so much as taking a single glance into the box. Hermione wasn't concerned about the dress. If she looked horrific, it would reflect badly on Mister Head Boy, so she had no doubt the dress would be fine. She dwelt on the idea of going to the Ball wearing something like her mother's furry, pink bunny slippers underneath the gown. A huge grin made it to her face at envisioning that.

Hermione had previously thought about travelling to Durmstrang prior to the Ball, but she realised soon that might be a tricky endeavour, since she sealed a bet with Riddle about going. And magical bets have a tendency to bite back, if you do not fulfil the requirements. She certainly did not want _that_ to happen, while she was in Grindelwald territory. So she had decided to leave halfway through.

Viktor had told her about the Christmas Party at the Durmstrang Institute, which was held right before the holiday, and if his wild stories were even partially true, it would be the perfect time to sneak in. Hermione did not know for certain if the party was held in this day and age, but from everything she read in today's Daily Prophet, it appeared Grindelwald was quite keen on showing the world how victorious and great he truly was. Stopping festivities was no sign of greatness or victory, so Hermione felt there was a good chance it would be party time in Durmstrang tonight.

And she would be fine. She had sneaked into Dark Lord's strongholds before with Harry and Ron. Everything was going to turn out alright. It was, after all, just a stupid dream. She was not a seer, not even a bad, always intoxicated one. Hermione stopped her pondering on Durmstrang and her visit over there. She could not be certain anyway, so this worrying in advance had no point.

The lessons, she followed that day, were quite entertaining and they took her mind away of her plans for tonight. Professor Dumbledore found it necessary to let them Transfigure something for Christmas. Hermione, knowing Dumbledore's fondness for the utterly ridiculous, went completely overboard on that assignment. She Transfigured a hat that was constructed of a gigantic reindeer head with a big, round, flashing red nose, and huge, brown deer eyes, which winked to everybody who passed, while mooing the song 'Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer'. She outfitted the antlers with several strands of enchanted mistletoe, entrapping whoever was foolish enough to come within a footstep of the person underneath the hat. Hermione dropped the hat, purely by accident of course, on top of Riddle's head, while he was busy rummaging through his bag. Alas, Mulciber had, just on time, jumped out of his seat next to the Head Boy, because otherwise they would have been in a very uncomfortable situation. Professor Dumbledore absolutely adored the hat. And when Hermione left for Potions, he was wearing it with a big grin on his face.

Slughorn was also deep into the Christmas spirit and he gave them the task of creating a potion that would enable the drinker to truly enjoy the wondrous event. The deeply annoyed sigh of the person, who sat next to her, was a true indication he would definitely be in need of such a potion, before this class was over.

During her lunch break Hermione visited Minerva, whom, fortunately, was beginning to look a lot less peaky. Her parents would be arriving in a few hours to take her home. The McGonagall's had a huge Mansion hidden in the Scottish mountains. Hermione had seen the pictures of Minerva's home and it was really very beautiful. Of course the school nurse had objected to the transfer of her patient, but Headmaster Dippet had overruled her, claiming the McGonagall's family Healer was more than capable of looking after Minerva. And so she was allowed to go home for the holiday season.

Minerva had invited Hermione to stay with her family for the holidays, but Hermione had declined. She had not told Minerva of her plans to go to Durmstrang and she had made up some Time-Travel excuse for not being able to stay at her house. It was obvious Minerva felt guilty for leaving Hermione alone at Hogwarts with Riddle, but Hermione reassured her that there was no need for guilt, and that she needed to get better first. She felt slightly guilty herself after she had lied to Minerva again and left the infirmary in a hurry.

Her last double class of today was over in a breeze and Hermione went to Godric's Room to take one final look at her travel supplies, because she was planning to take them down with her, in her beaded bag, into the girl's dormitory. The Slytherin Dungeon was, after all, closer to the Ballroom and the exit out of Hogwarts as Godric's Room, which was located way up in the Gryffindor Tower.

Hermione had written a letter, and she left it behind for Minerva to find, in case everything went horribly wrong. She had also taken several steps to make sure Salazar and Godric's books would be unavailable to anyone, while she was gone. Well, she hoped they would be unavailable, but she had done all she could in that department.

Hermione picked up her beaded bag. She was ready, but her eyes fell on the damn jar that contained the stinking, unidentifiable ointment. She tapped with her fingers on her beaded bag, contemplating on her options. Suddenly, she grabbed the jar and tossed it in her bag.

'If I get caught and it screws up the time-line, then I can always blame Dumbledore and Riddle for it,' she said to herself, very satisfied with this reasoning. And she exited Godric's Room contently.

* * *

A half hour later, one very upset Hermione came running into the infirmary and paced past Minerva's bed straight for Rodolphus Lestrange's, while holding on tightly to a white cardboard box.

'Riddle,' she furiously started, but as she drew the curtains to the side, the only one she saw was a feeble looking Lestrange, who eyed her with contempt.

'He is not here, Mudblood. So close those curtains and leave me alone,' he snarled.

'With pleasure,' Hermione sneered back, and she turned and paced away towards the exit. The box still tucked tightly underneath her armpit.

'Hermione?!' Minerva yelled. 'Hermione!'

Hermione halted her forward motion.

'What's wrong?' Minerva asked, concerned.

She swirled around and dumped the box in Minerva's lap. 'This is what's wrong,' Hermione hissed.

Curious, Minerva opened the box and pulled out the utmost exquisite gown she had ever seen. 'Wow, can I borrow…,' she started.

'You don't want to borrow this dress, Minerva. Nobody wants to wear this – this... Arggh.' Frustrated, Hermione threw her hands in the air and rubbed them through her hair.

Minerva looked at the gown in clear disagreement of Hermione's statement. 'What's wrong with it? It looks more than fine to me,' Minerva said, confused.

'Riddle gave me this gown, Minerva. That's what's wrong with it,' Hermione said, disgruntled.

'But you already knew he would. Why make such a big deal about it now? Tom may be an evil git, but, at least, he's got excellent taste,' said Minerva, turning the gown back and forth, while giving it admiring looks.

'Oh yes, excellent taste,' Hermione said sarcastically.

Minerva was stunned. 'Well, if you don't want the dress…' And she rolled her eyes to the ceiling for speaking such a ridiculous thought out loud. 'I can think of a large number of girls, including myself, who wouldn't mind wearing such a fine piece of art.'

'And how do you suppose, orphan boy, acquired this fine piece of art,' Hermione added, folding her arms over each other.

Minerva dropped the gown back into the box immediately, and she pulled her hands away from it like she had just touched something incredibly filthy. 'Oh.'

'Yeah, oh indeed,' Hermione said, still slightly sarcastic, but she was glad Minerva had, finally, got the point.

'What are you going to do now?' Minerva asked, pushing the box away from her, so she would not get tainted by it. 'You'll have to wear it, won't you? I mean, because of that bet?' And she wrinkled her nose up in disgust.

'I am not wearing this,' Hermione said, determined.

She folded the paper back over the gown and closed the lit of the box. She did not see the alarmed expression on Minerva's face as her eyes were still focused on the box in question when she said: 'I am not wearing anything that jerk provides me with, if he wants to see it tonight, he can, bloody well, wear it himself.' And she popped the box back under her arm with a look of utmost certainty.

'I think it would look much better on you, Evans. Besides, you're bound to our little agreement,' responded the jerk in question.

Hermione's eyes widened and Minerva merely mouthed sorry towards her, before she hid behind one of her pillows theatrically. Hermione's feelings of shock, for getting busted saying what she had just said, were quickly replaced with anger. Furiously, she swirled around and she poked him in the chest.

'Well, I'm ending our little agreement right now, Riddle.'

Hermione saw the amusement flutter to his face, and he was about to respond to her bold suggestion, but she was not finished yet. 'You see, I don't know who you had to kill in order to obtain this gown, _Voldemort_ , but you will not drag me into your foul, rotten, disgusting ways,' she hissed.

'Aren't you forgetting evil, dreadful, despicable, horrif…'

He jumped back just in time, because Hermione swung the box around and it would have made some serious contact with his head, had he still been standing there.

'Temper, temper,' Tom mocked.

Hermione directed another swing at his head, but this time, he was ready and grabbed a hold of the box.

'Look Evans, contrary to popular beliefs, I have absolutely no desire to kill someone over something as stupid as a dress. Nor do I need to. I was quite capable of obtaining it in another manner, so I suggest you get over this, whatever this is, and get ready for a Ball, which I believe is in less than an hour.' And he pushed the box back in her arms violently.

'And dare I ask what this other, no doubt, harmless manner was?' Hermione demanded. She couldn't hide the distinct sarcastic undertone in her voice upon using the word harmless to Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Tom sighed. 'Abraxas owes me quite a huge favour. So there, now you know. No evil, wicked, Dark Arts curses are used to supply you with a gown,' he said smirking.

'Abraxas?' asked Hermione. She couldn't recall anyone in their year by that name.

'You know him. He is in Slytherin too. Tiny, blond, fourth year, bit of a weasel,' Tom added, upon seeing Hermione still had no idea, who he was talking about.

'Malfoy!' she shouted furiously, and she threw the box at him.

'I'm definitely not wearing anything A Malfoy has paid for,' she said through gritted teeth, and she paced out of the infirmary, leaving Tom standing quite stunned with the box in his arms.

Minerva snickered softly at Tom's surprised features. 'I believe you would have been far better off, if you had simply told her you killed everyone in the shop instead of that,' said Minerva, and she laughed out loud.

'Oh, well,' Tom said tiresome. 'Want a dress, McGonagall?' And he casually tossed the box onto Minerva's bed, before exiting the infirmary too, not waiting for her to reply.

* * *

Lucretia Black looked utterly shocked, when Hermione entered the dormitory. 'The Ball is in half an hour and you haven't even changed,' she said.

'So what,' Hermione said aggressively, 'it will only take me around fifteen minutes to get ready.'

And she opened her wardrobe, pointed her wand at one of the dresses and thought about the periwinkle-blue robes she had worn to the Yule Ball with Krum. She flashed her wand around and the dress Transfigured into that exact outfit. Satisfied, Hermione pulled it out of the closet and started changing. Lucretia was staring at her in disbelieve.

'What happened to that beautiful gown you had?' she asked.

'Someone made a mistaken delivery,' Hermione answered shortly.

Walburga snickered from behind her mirror. 'Told you,' she said to Lucretia.

But Lucretia ignored her cousin and continued looking at Hermione in disbelieve. 'You can't be ready in fifteen minutes. You'll have to do your hair,' she said with certitude.

'My hair is fine the way it is,' Hermione replied.

During her fourth year, Hermione had spent an entire bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion on her hair in order to get it straight and manageable for the Yule Ball. And she had sworn to herself that if she ever would have to take three hours of fixing her hair up for some event, ever again, then it would better be for something or someone very, very special. And Tom Riddle just did not qualify for those terms at all. So she wasn't planning on doing anything special with her hair at all.

'You can't possibly call that, wild mumble jumble of frizz, hair,' Walburga sneered on her way out, but nobody responded back to her.

'There, all done,' Hermione said when she was finished changing into her outfit.

'No, no, no,' said Lucretia, shaking her head. She blocked Hermione's path out of there and looked at the clock on the wall. 'We still have some time. I can add some Makeup Charms and …'

'That is a definite no on the Makeup Charms,' Hermione interrupted, disgusted.

She felt there was no need for Riddle to think she had made even the slightest bit of an effort.

'At least, let me put up your hair,' Lucretia said desperately. 'I have this blue hairpin that would look smashing with your robes.'

Hermione forwent her resistance to have anything done and settled on the hairpin, hoping that this straw would be enough to make Lucretia happy. That way, Hermione might, actually, be able to leave the dorm and go to this wretched dance event. However, it turned out that something as simple as putting someone's hair up, was extremely time consuming if left in the hands of the likes of the young Miss Black. Hermione had looked at the clock for Merlin knows how many times, but Lucretia was still fussing about. And it was already eight-fifteen.

'Doesn't Malcolm mind waiting?' Hermione, eventually, asked, and she was keeping her fingers crossed that this would get Lucretia to abandon her Cause.

'Oh no, he'll understand if I'm a bit late. And we did agree to meet in the Ballroom, so he won't be bored at all,' Lucretia said cheerful. 'He's probably busy pigging into the food on the buffet as we speak.'

'Great,' Hermione thought.

She would be here forever, and she was very much aware of the fact that her 'date' was probably a lot less understanding.

'And I'm … almost … done!' Lucretia shouted triumphantly as she sprayed something on Hermione's hair. 'There, much better.' And she eyed her handiwork with great satisfaction.

Hermione wanted to get up immediately to leave, but Lucretia pushed her down in her seat and told her that she needed to wait two more minutes in order for the Fixation Potion to take effect.

'Don't move sooner, or you'll look like a complete idiot when you twirl around,' she said warningly. 'I'll tell Tom you'll be right there,' Lucretia added cheerful on her way out the dorm.

Hermione placed a hand underneath her chin and watched the clock in boredom for the two longest minutes of her lifetime.

'Finally,' she said impatiently, when the time was up.

Hermione grabbed her beaded bag, which magically always matched everything she wore, and she went up the stairs towards the Slytherin Common Room. Tom was hanging leisurely on one of the couches in his black dress robes. He was entranced in the book he was reading, and the sheer concentration on his face made his features even more handsome.

'There should be a law against that,' Hermione thought, narrowing her eyes at the evil menace.

Apparently, Riddle had radar for staring people, because he looked up from his book and smiled to her, before closing his book shut. Hermione noticed the side-way glance he threw at the clock to his right. It was almost half past eight.

'Don't you even think of starting to complain about that,' Hermione hissed, before moving toward him.

He raised his eyebrows in amusement. 'I was just about to congratulate you on being able to get rid of Black so quickly. You really must have quite some skills of persuasion. I don't think anyone has ever succeeded in getting her to stop fussing before,' Tom said calmly as he got to his feet. 'Besides, I was otherwise entertained. This is a very good book, Evans. Care to read it when I'm done?' he asked teasingly and showed her the cover.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at reading the title, Beyond Blood Bonds. 'There better not be anything in there that he can use,' she thought, concerned.

'Abraxas has, kindly, lent it to me. Apparently, the Malfoy family has quite an extensive Dark Arts library at their disposal. Oh, sorry, my mistake, I forgot you're not a fan of the Malfoys,' Tom said smirking. 'I'll try to refrain from using their name in your company. I wouldn't want to upset my lovely date.'

'Are we going to stay here chitchatting or are we going to get a move on, Riddle? If I recall correctly _you_ have a Ball to open,' Hermione said grinning. 'Do enlighten me, which unfortunate Prefect is going to be bothered with your presence now that Minerva won't be there?'

'I don't recall Dippet mentioning I had to pick a Prefect in exchange,' Riddle said smoothly, and he held the door open for Hermione to pass. 'I thought I already had a partner, Evans.'

Hermione snorted and walked ahead, until they reached the Great Hall. The gigantic Christmas tree, decorated luxuriously, stood in the centre, and snow fell from the enchanted ceiling. Tom held out his arm and Hermione gave him a critical glance.

'I think we can control ourselves for a brief period, Evans. Wouldn't you agree?' he said.

Hermione wasn't so certain, but she didn't have time to object, because Riddle simply grabbed her arm and moved forward. She felt that peculiar jolt again, and as they walked towards the Ballroom, Hermione felt not nearly as apprehensive about her companion as she had done a few moments ago.

It was already very crowded in the Ballroom, and Hermione noticed students were standing everywhere chattering about the upcoming vacation, the latest Quidditch match between the Chudley Cannons and Puddlemere United, and who was dating who. The Ballroom was dimly lit and emitted an atmosphere of privacy, even though the room was as large as the Great Hall. Hovering mistletoe appeared and disappeared over the guileless victims it entrapped beneath its leaves and young twigs. Hermione noticed that Ernest was watching the mistletoe curiously with his dreamy eyes, while Pomona, who was trapped underneath it with him, was getting thoroughly impatient with his lack of action and constant chattering.

'No doubt about Nargles,' Hermione thought, as she remembered Luna's mistletoe obsession.

Eventually, Pomona just grabbed him and gave him a kiss, before she moved off hurriedly.

Now that the mistletoe show was over, Hermione continued scanning the rest of the environment. There were decorated Christmas Trees all alongside the walls of the Ballroom. A large buffet table filled with all kinds of delicious foods and drinks attracted a lot of students, and a soft Christmas music was to be heard in the background. Hermione looked around when she realised there was no band. How were they supposed to dance to this background noise? But Armando Dippet came charging towards them, so she had no more time to wonder about that.

'Tom, there you are. Finally, we can begin,' the Headmaster said joyous, and he demanded everybody's attention for his speech.

After listening to his drooling words for the longest ten minutes of her life, Headmaster Dippet finally ended his speech by informing them that the Head Boy would, as usual, be opening the Ball, but since the Head Girl was tragically unavailable, he would have to pick someone else from the wonderful House of Gryffindor.

Hermione had not noticed that all this time she had been holding hands with Tom Riddle, until he let go to open the Ball. When their contact was disengaged, she felt extremely lost for a moment, but she, quickly, regained her composure. It relieved her worries a bit that she, somehow, had not lost her mind like the time when they nearly did it in the Room of Requirement. She was still in control of all her faculties, and even though a part of her demanded that she reconnected with Tom Riddle immediately, she could resist it easily.

'I'm going to conquer this,' Hermione thought certain.

She heard how the music started. It seemed to come from the ceiling and she looked up, but it was not clear what exactly the origin was of the music. So she watched the dance floor to see who the unlucky girl was Riddle had picked, and to her horror, she saw him standing centre stage with Augusta Longbottom, who looked rather pale at the moment. Riddle whispered something in Augusta's ear that clearly frightened her. Hermione's eyes found Pomona's and Hagrid's, who were watching the scene with equal concern as her. Ernest was, as usual, living in his own exciting world, and Hermione wondered if he even had noticed something was off.

But soon, she could no longer see the others, because the dance floor got rather crowded. So when Julian Hogsby from Hufflepuff asked her if she would care to dance, Hermione accepted, and she was waltzing the floor trying to find Augusta with her eyes to check whether she was alright. She could not find her. After the waltz she had been looking for Tom and Augusta, but they still were nowhere to be found. And Hermione was standing at the buffet table taking a sip of her punch, when…

'There you are,' Tom said smiling. He seemed very happy about something.

'What did you do?' Hermione asked accusatory, putting her glass back on the table.

'I believe it's called dancing, Hermione. I'm sure it exists where you came from,' he whispered. 'Care to?'

But he did not wait for the answer and twirled her around onto the dance floor. That nice feeling of familiarity was back again, due to their contact. And Hermione realised soon that Tom was easy to dance with. There was no doubt about which way she was supposed to be going. There was no bumping into others and no need to keep a close eye on your feet, so they wouldn't get trampled upon. Time flew by and she was actually enjoying herself. Especially, since nothing out of the ordinary had happened yet. Maybe that mind losing experience was a fluke incident. After all, the Necronomicon had only stated the physiological effects she was feeling right now. She could certainly handle those.

A whirling mist appeared on the dance floor, creating the illusion for the dancing couples of being the only ones present there.

'This mist might be a charming and beautiful idea, but how are you supposed to avoid bumping into each other?' Hermione said, puzzled.

Riddle was eyeing her intently. He twirled her around and halted on the spot, waiting. His hand was near the small of her back caressing her and he pulled her hand that was holding on to his between them. And as they stood there, quietly, Hermione noticed nobody bumped into them. Mobile Proximity Wards. She realised it the moment he said it.

'Quite effective, don't you think?' Tom said pleasantly. 'I probably should thank Professor Carefoch for creating this wonderful, private, little space in an otherwise completely crowded room. I was surprised when she went for it so easily. I was certain it would cause me some effort in convincing her into creating it. You know with all these hormonal teenagers around. But I guess she is a hopeless romantic. So, thanks to Carefoch, nobody will be able to interrupt us, while we are standing here.'

Hermione felt a twinge of fear in her chest as she recognised the tone, but that same comfortable feeling was still flooding through her body, so she did not try to break free, even though her mind was screaming: 'Get out now, while you still can.'

'This has most certainly been a revealing evening, don't you think, Hermione? I feel that those dreadful events from before will no longer bother me.' And he gave her a broad smile. 'How about you? Do you feel in control now, Hermione?'

She saw the predatory glance as his eyes flashed red, and she knew she had to break free now, but her body was not moving. She wanted to push him away, but her arms failed her miserably and her legs were unwilling to take even a single step. And she realised that, somehow, she had lost control over her own body.

'Muffliato,' he whispered content.

And she felt the Sound Deadening Charm flash around her. 'Let me go, Tom,' Hermione said, alarmed.

She saw his pleased expression at her despair.

'But I'm not done yet, dear. It would be such a waste to let an opportunity like this fly by. It is, after all, not often that I get an offer from someone to do whatever I want. You see, Hermione, when you first said that, I knew there had to be a way to tie that offer into our Bond and Malfoy, kindly, provided me with the literature to do so,' Tom explained. 'Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot I promised not to mention them in your presence,' he mockingly added. 'Well, whatever it was that made you dislike them in the past, this is going to top all of it.'

Her previously felt alarm was quickly becoming replaced by utter fright. Her mind was racing with thoughts about ways to get someone's attention, to get help through this stupid mist. But she could not move her arms, so she could not get to her wand. And without her wand nothing would work. She could not break those damn wards by sheer will alone.

'And I do appreciate your willingness to help me test out my theories. I could have never done this without your kind assistance,' Tom continued tauntingly. 'Now, let's see how far I can take this.'

And Hermione gasped, because that same electrical feeling flew through her body with incredible speed and twice the force as before, when Tom Riddle threw both his arms around her waist and pulled her tightly against him.

'Look into my eyes, Hermione,' he said calmly.

It was obvious the sensation wasn't affecting him anymore. She could see it in the calm way he was watching her. His hand caressed her face.

'Keep looking,' he demanded, when her eyes darted away from his.

Hermione felt overwhelmed. It was as if every nerve in her body was overloading. Her legs began to buckle; her heartbeat was speeding up; she was gasping for air, and her mind was screaming: 'Stop looking at him.'

But he was so close and he held her so tight. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to run. And she trembled with fear, when he placed his forehead against hers. Not again.

'Don't, please,' she begged.

'Shh,' he shushed her, while he placed his hand on the back of her head.

And he softly whispered: 'It's going to be okay. You're going to be all right. Everything is fine. You're fine. This is where you want to be, remember that Hermione. You belong here, with me. Say it.'

And he massaged her head, while fixating her with his gaze. 'Say it,' he repeated more forcefully.

'N-n-no,' Hermione stuttered, and she closed her eyes.

'Look at me,' Tom ordered calmly, and when she did not comply, he repeated his order more forcefully. 'Look at me, Hermione, or this will become very unpleasant for you.'

But Hermione felt it was already very unpleasant for her, and she just knew that if she complied with him now, she would lose. So she tightened her eyes further, waiting for the inevitable. She did not have to wait long. A tremendous pain soared through her body. It felt much worse than the Cruciatus Curse. It was like she was being ripped apart at the very core of her being. Tears sprung from her eyes, but she kept them closed just the same.

'Look at me! It is what I want, Hermione, remember. You have no choice in this matter. NOW, open your eyes!'

And it was like an enforceable pull made her do it. She opened her eyes and stared straight into a pair of crimson ones.

'That's a good girl,' Tom said softly, and the pain subsided as he caressed her tear-stained face. 'And just whose girl are you, darling?'

'Yours,' she whispered in a daze.

'Yes, you are mine,' Tom repeated calmly. And a wonderful feeling of security and safety made its way through her. 'But who am I? Tell me,' he requested smoothly.

It remained silent.

'You know, Hermione, say it.'

'You're Lord Voldemort,' she answered, lost.

'And Lord Voldemort always rewards those who serve him well, Hermione.'

And he kissed her passionately on her lips. It felt so good to be in his arms; she never wanted to let go, ever again. She wanted to stay in this moment forever. But a piece of yellow parchment with a black rim flashed, and, suddenly, she felt in control again. Her muscles were responding to her wishes, her needs, and her hand flew to her pocket to where he foolishly had let her wand remain.

'Levicorpus,' Hermione whispered hoarse, as she pushed him away from her. Something a huge part of her did not want her to do at all.

And she stumbled backwards when the invention of the Half-Blood Prince tossed Lord Voldemort upside-down in the air. His robes fell over his head revealing a pair of such pale white legs that they almost matched the colour of his underpants. Hermione started running away from him, away from the Ballroom and the Great Hall. She ran up the stairs to the third floor, until she reached the Statue of the Humpbacked Witch. She had not even heard the shouts of several concerned individuals who called out after her.

'Dissendium,' she whispered, shaking.

And Hermione fled into the secret passageway and ran all the way, until she reached the trap door that led to the cellar of Honeydukes. She ran up, until she was inside the empty sweetshop. She opened her beaded bag and changed into the blood red robes, the snow boots, the gloves and furred winter coat in a hurry.

Hermione spun on the spot and Disapparated away. She did it without a moment of consideration, without a moment of thought on where she was heading, and without remembering her dream from the other night. A few seconds later, Hermione Apparated just outside the vast iron gates of Durmstrang, all the way into the Land of Grindelwald.


	17. Chapter 17

**Masters of Manipulation**

**Chapter seventeen**

The grounds were indeed glorious. Viktor had not exaggerated one bit, when he told her that the nature surrounding the Durmstrang Institute was impressive. It truly was. Large mountains dominated the horizon. All around her were the largest needle pine-trees Hermione had ever seen. Silfer-firs flanked the road towards the castle, which was barely visible in the distance. On her right side, a completely frozen-up lake, thrice the size of the one at Hogwarts, glittered in the moonlight. And all of it was covered in a thick, heavy pack of pure white snow. It was like a fairytale picture. Any moment now a carriage pulled by the most beautiful horses would stop and the princes would be rescued. Hermione snorted.

'And they lived happily ever after,' she thought sardonic.

However, this was real life, which meant the princes had to walk the long and winding road towards the castle in the distance. A very familiar long and winding road, but Hermione shook the eerie feeling away by remembering she had seen pictures of it. It was just a dream, after all. She was being silly. The snow crackled underneath her snow boots, but that was the only sound that was audible in the late night, so she did not muffle it, yet. After a brisk walk of an hour-and-a-half she reached the clearing before the Durmstrang Castle. She muffled the sound of her footsteps and followed the tree line towards the staff entrance on the side.

Durmstrang wasn't nearly as big as Hogwarts. The castle had only two towers on each side, and on top of those towers huge fires burned, lighting the sky. It was a mere four storeys high, but that would still cost Hermione some time to search every floor for Grindelwald's sign. She wished Krum had told Harry the exact whereabouts of the sign, that way she would not have to scout the entire castle, but unfortunately, that was not the case. And Hermione knew she was lucky that so far she had gone unnoticed, because the loud party sounds indicated that there were a lot of people present tonight. Hermione had a cover story ready, but she'd rather not use it, because it was a bit flimsy at best. She was about to open the staff-only door when someone else threw it open. Hermione ducked behind it and stood there, covered between the door and the wall.

'Mikhail! Mikhail!' a man shouted upwards. 'Secure the castle! A-Level, now!'

The door flew shut again, after the man had stepped back inside. Hermione ran back to the trees. What was going on? She just made it back to the tree line and hid behind a great fir, when the front door opened up and people started pouring out of the castle. A brilliant flash emanated from both towers of the castle and a ball of fire spread across the sky, dispersing in every direction. It was followed by a deep thundering roaring. A loud crack, and to her horror, Hermione saw the ice of the lake rise up, creating a wall higher than a Muggle skyscraper. And as the thunder increased, the mountains started moving, joining that wall of ice in forming a barrier surrounding the castle that not even a fly could pass through.

'Oh no,' Hermione thought anxiously, 'I'm stuck here.'

'Light the fires! Light the fires!'

On the clearing in front of the castle, flames erupted, forming two parallel lines of fire, resembling the strip of an airport.

'Leonide! Pyotr! Assemble the students in line. He's coming!'

Hermione saw how all the students were directed into groups and were made to wait like a military parade. They all had their dress uniforms on. The same one she was wearing. At least, she had had that detail right. The students were chattering excitedly and some of them were pointing to the sky. A large flame erupted out of nowhere, growing and growing, until it took the form of a Chimaera, and another one, and a third one… The two Chimaeras flanked each other, while the first one was slightly ahead in the middle of them both, forming a perfect letter V. Hermione bit her lip as she watched the Fiendfyre forms from her dream hover in the night sky.

Suddenly, it was there. A huge black, metallic eagle as wide as an ocean liner appeared between the two chimaeras. The eagle's tail was erupting giant flames, leaving a path of fire in the bird's wake. And it dove to the ground surrounded by the protective Chimaeras, landing straight between the fire-lines. For a brief moment all Hermione saw was fire, but the Chimaeras flew back up. They left the eagle standing alone, and it flapped its wings, until it remained still. Steam emanated from the metallic bird as the snow had melted within a large radius of it. And Hermione noticed the sign on the bird's wings, the triangular eye of the Deathly Hallows. A hissing noise came from the bird, and on the side, a door flapped open, forming a downward ramp, which turned into a staircase. And there, above the stairs, stood a tall, curly blond-haired wizard. Hermione closed her eyes.

'You have got to be kidding me,' she thought, disgruntled. 'Don't these dark wizards have anything better to do than hop around their former place of education?'

The students had all sank to one knee, and in the middle of them, stood a rather plumb looking wizard; the one, who had been shouting earlier to everybody and had told them all what to do.

'Vasili,' Grindelwald said, 'my old friend.'

And he spread his arms out wide as he walked down the stairs towards what Hermione assumed to be the Headmaster of Durmstrang. The two men slammed their arms around each other and patted the other on the back, before letting go. Grindelwald took a hold of Vasili's shoulders and he eyed him up and down approvingly.

'I see you haven't failed to take care of yourself,' he said and his brilliant blue eyes sparkled joyous.

'Gellert, you know how good the food is here, so...,' Vasili said, laughing apologetically.

Grindelwald looked around. 'Come, come, get those students off the ground. It's freezing out here.' And he waved his hands upwards. 'Up, up, you lot.'

Slowly, the students climbed back onto their feet at Gellert's command. Grindelwald turned around and faced the others that had followed him out of the eagle. He spread his arm out towards a black-haired woman, who joined him, and he swung his arm around her shoulder.

'Always this ridiculous kneeling business,' Gellert said to her, rolling his eyes.

She smiled at him, and he introduced her to Vasili. 'I don't believe you've met my wife, yet.'

'Milady Grindelwald, a pleasure,' Vasili said, and he made a small bow, while kissing her hand.

She gave him a courteous nod.

'Always the gentleman,' Gellert grinned, and he looked upward to take in the building. 'So I see my old alma mater hasn't changed much. This castle is still as ugly as ever. Nevertheless, it's good to be back, and I thank you for inviting me over.'

'My pleasure, I was surprised you accepted, though. I didn't think you would want to come back,' Vasili said.

'Oh, but I remember the party before Christmas very vividly. I have some very fond memories of them. Besides, why wouldn't I want to come back to my old school?' Gellert said cheerful.

'Well, because you got thrown off?' Vasili replied.

Grindelwald roared with laughter, and he started walking towards the entrance. 'Now, now, Vasili, you wouldn't want to give these fine young people over here the idea that it's alright to not finish their education, would you?' And he winked mischievously to one of the boys in the crowd. 'So what have you got in store for us tonight?'

'All your old friends are here. So…,' but Vasili halted his speech upon Grindelwald's sudden swirl towards him.

'All?' Gellert said mockingly. And his head swivelled sideways pretending to be searching.

'Well,' Vasili said snorting, 'I'm afraid Albus could not make it.'

And both man roared with laughter. 'Still hiding in that castle of his, is he?' Grindelwald said, amused.

'Apparently,' Vasili said, grinning.

'Too bad. I could use a challenge. You have no idea the kind of dunderheads I duel these days. Bleh!' and Gellert stuck out his tongue. 'Besides, I have stumbled upon this theory concerning Corporeal Transfiguration, and I could certainly use his input on making that a practicality.'

'You can always send him an owl,' Vasili suggested.

Both men looked at each other in amusement. 'You know, Vasili. That's not a bad idea. I'll have to think about that.'

'So are you planning on taking over Britain any time soon?' Vasili asked.

'Well, there are still some preparations that need to be set in place, before I can motion my forces into the UK. But eventually, I suppose, when Mohammed won't come to the mountain … this mountain will just have to go find his best friend for himself.'

'Gellert, could we finish this lovely discussion indoors, before you start repeating the goat anecdote again,' Mrs Grindelwald said, annoyed. 'It is freezing out here.'

Hermione was very much in agreement with Mrs Grindelwald here. The temperature was dropping to dangerously low levels. She had to find a way to get inside; otherwise she would freeze to death out in these woods. Especially, since she could not use magic to warm herself, because that would give away her location.

'Sorry darling,' said Gellert to his wife, and he waved his hand at the masses. 'Come on, everybody, I thought there was supposed to be a party here.'

And they all started to go inside, chattering and laughing, enjoying themselves. Except for the two men, who were flanking the eagle's entrance, they were monitoring the environment. Hermione saw the brief moment of opportunity, and she took it. As the students were all scattered around the place, dressed in the same manner as Hermione was dressed, she moved away from behind the fir and walked calmly towards the staff-only entrance, like she had every right to be there. It worked perfectly. No one took notice and she breathed in deeply after the door flew shut behind her. Now, all she had to do was: prevent detection, find the sign on the wall and nick a book if it was around.

'So, that shouldn't prove to be a problem at all,' Hermione thought dryly.

Hermione hid inside a cupboard in the corridor leading to the Durmstrang kitchen and she waited for an hour, until the sounds of the party indicated that the people were getting more and more intoxicated. Eventually, she saw the opportunity she had been waiting for. A very drunk wizard, who had her height and build, walked into her corridor all by himself and leaned against the wall for support, before he took another sip from the bottle of Firewhisky in his hands.

'Perfect,' Hermione thought, before she cast the stunner non-verbally.

She pulled out a hair from the man and dumped the body in the cupboard she had been hiding in, before taking a sip of the Polyjuice Potion. After she changed into the stupefied wizard and tossed some of the Firewhisky over her clothes, Hermione felt confident to start checking the corridors. She passed the Durmstrang variant of the Great Hall and noticed Grindelwald sitting in the centre, talking animatedly with the group around him. He was gesturing wildly and everybody around him seemed almost entranced by his charm. Hermione watched the party filled with happy people and her mind dwelt on the millions in Europe, who were being persecuted for being born into a non-wizarding family. The millions, who were killed, tortured and made to vanish, like they never existed, like they did not matter to anyone. After Grindelwald's fall from power in 1945, inside the European Mainland only a few Muggle-born witches and wizards were found alive. And there he sat. The monster that was responsible, being the enigmatic life of the party.

'Serge, Serge! There you are!'

Hermione looked into the round face of a very tiny man. She was thankful for the use of the Translator Linguist Spell. Nobody would recognise it here, since it had been invented by Gilbert Wimple in 1971, and she would have been detected quickly, if she could not understand what people were saying.

'Serge, come, you've got to meet him,' the tiny man said, and he started to pull her into the Hall. Before she could protest, Hermione stood face to face with Gellert Grindelwald. Well, he was sitting down and she stood rather stupidly on the other end of the table, unable to speak a word. The tiny man, whom she still did not know the name from, introduced her to Grindelwald. 'This is Serge Soussan; my friend and our new Dark Arts Professor.'

Hermione practically choked on hearing that description. She had picked a professor to Polyjuice into! Grindelwald got to his feet and moved over to greet her. He grabbed her outstretched hand and gave her the most entrusting feeling with his handshake she had ever felt in her life.

'Soussan? That's a French name, isn't it?' Gellert said jovial.

Hermione merely nodded dumbfounded, but apparently, that was not something Gellert found strange.

'So where in France are you from?' Gellert asked, while he placed his arm around her shoulders.

Hermione noticed he sniffed, before he pulled a face to his wife that clearly said "another intoxicated wizard". But that sniff followed by his veiled condescending expression gave Hermione an idea.

'Nice,' Hermione answered, shortly. It had been a vacation address for her and her parents for many years.

'Ah, the beauty of the Ruines of Cemenelum, but you must, of course, know its history?' Gellert replied.

'The Muggle one or the real events,' Hermione said snorting, and she swayed a bit, like she almost could not remain standing.

Gellert laughed and held onto her. 'A wizard, who speaks his mind. I suppose there isn't much work for Dark Arts Teachers in France, but I can assure you, once I've renovated that Institution that has the gall to call itself magical education, your important subject will be obligated to all.' And he spread out his arms and landed them on her shoulders. 'I've great respect for the professors of Durmstrang. Well, these days I do,' Gellert said mischievously. 'You'll just have to forgive me for my teen years.'

Everybody started laughing.

'I'm a professor?' she slurred, surprised. 'Am I any good?'

And she reached for the bottle of Firewhisky on the table before her. Grindelwald roared with laughter and so did the others around him. Her alleged friend intervened. 'I think you've had enough tonight, Serge,' he said, and he pulled the bottle away from her, before guiding her away from the table.

Hermione was relieved when she was out of the Durmstrang Hall and had got rid of this tiny clingy man, whom she still did not know the name from. She wiped off her forehead and made her way to the first floor. She was lucky. After crossing only two corridors, she saw it, the triangular sign of the Deathly Hallows. Excited, she checked the wall. She almost yelled in triumph when she spotted the magical disturbance in the bricks. There was definitely an entrance of some kind here.

For a while, she tried all kinds of things to get whatever sort of doorway that was there to open, but nothing worked. A couple of times, some students passed, greeting her politely, while she merely nodded to them and pretended to be resting against the wall. However, it got later and later, and she was still not a single step further. Well, she knew what wouldn't open the damn entrance. Hermione leaned against the wall opposite to the sign, and she was beginning to wonder what she had been thinking into coming here, without even as much as a hint into what, where, and how. She snorted.

'I'm definitely turning into Harry,' she thought, grinning. 'Going places without thinking it through first.'

She glared at the sign and the wall that wouldn't budge. 'Only Harry would have got in there,' she thought annoyed with herself.

If only Professor Dumbledore would have supplied her with a bit more information, with a bit more help, then she might have found a way in. But the only thing Professor Dumbledore had given her was lectures on how dangerous it was here and that she had to keep that blasted Slytherin book safe. A book! Professor Dumbledore had given her that Deathly Hallows book! She pulled her beaded bag out from underneath her robes and rummaged through it, until she found The Tale of Beedle the Bard.

Hermione looked from the sign on the wall before her to the sign on the cover of the book. Dumbledore had personally drawn the sign of the Deathly Hallows on the cover. And he had done it in such a way that the people from the ministry would not notice it, but he had counted on her to find it. He had counted on her to see what trained Unspeakables would miss. Hermione started skipping through the leaves of the book, until she had reached the story of the three brothers. Careful, she scanned the pages for some kind of clue, but in the end she closed it up and looked back at the cover.

It was a beautiful cover of thick leather. Her hand caressed the book when she felt the sign move underneath her hand. She almost shrieked but was able to hold it in, and she looked at the cover curiously. There was nothing out of the ordinary visible. She placed her hand back on the sign and felt it move again, but this time, she kept her hand there. Suddenly, she felt how something was pushed out of the leather into her hand. It had a cold and metallic feel to it. Hermione held out her hand and saw a silvery amulet, shaped in the form of the triangular eye.

And it was like Dumbledore had left her a note with it, because she knew what she needed to do next. Hermione walked over to the sign on the wall and placed the amulet in the curves of the wall. It fitted precisely. A click was heard. The amulet started turning counter clockwise, until it had finished a full circle and disappeared into the wall. Now, the sign on the wall started to turn clockwise, and slowly, the contours of a circle were carved around the sign. This circle was almost as big as Hermione herself. Another click and a round shaped hole appeared. She, quickly, stepped through it and saw the wall was reappearing behind her. The contours of the circle vanished, the Deathly Hallows sign reappeared and it spat out the amulet. Hermione caught it before it clattered to the floor, and she pocketed it. The passageway before her was dark.

'Lumos.'

Hermione started to walk. A staircase let her down, and she knew she had to be very far beneath the castle after a while, because she had only been one storey up, and these steps took forever. Eventually, she had come to the last step and a fork was visible in the now underground passageway. She decided to keep right. That way, if she was wrong, she could always go back and make a different choice. After several right turns, the lack of obstacles began to unnerve her.

' _Gellert would never allow a book like that lying around. He will have placed it under heavy security.'_

So where was this heavy security? She noticed her own features were visible again. The Polyjuice Potion had worn off some time ago. Still slightly apprehensive about the lack of attacks, she kept moving, until she reached a dead end. Hermione turned around and returned to the last junction she had taken and took the other corridor there. And from thereon, she turned right again and again. She felt secure that her logical mind would get her out of here, eventually. But she also felt it was going to take forever at this rate when she reached a dead end again and had to turn back. A feeling of dread became upon her. And she started to jog. This was beginning to look an awful lot like some kind of maze. She walked back to the last intersection and she noticed there were, suddenly, four corridors present. An extra pathway had magically appeared.

'Oh no,' Hermione thought.

She stood still on the crossing. Her plan was mathematically based on elimination, but for that to work the passageways had to remain where they were. And they appeared to be moving. Hermione knew she was completely lost. And she realised why there were no safeguards before. The point was to trap someone down here. To get them in as far as possible, so they could not leave or reach their destination. She could admire the sheer efficiency of it. Hermione sat down on the ground. There must be a way out of this. She was certain of it. There always was a solution, a flaw.

'Too bad I don't have a map,' she thought, 'or do I?'

Excited, she pulled out the children's fairytale book again. Eager, she skipped through its pages. And there it was, a picture, drawn inside the story of Hansel and Gretel. The two children, who got lost in the woods, much like she was lost here, underground. The picture showed a representation of the two children walking through a forest that looked an awful lot like a maze. Suddenly, Hanzel disappeared from the picture completely as Gretel's figure reappeared at another location. Gretel was sitting on the ground in the same manner as Hermione was sitting. And there were two ways Gretel could walk. She could walk towards her father's house or towards the sugar candy cottage. Hermione just knew that those were the ways towards the exit and the book. She stood up and so did Gretel. Hermione turned left and watched what Gretel was doing. Gretel turned towards her father's house.

'Wrong way,' Hermione thought, and she turned towards the cottage made of sweets and started walking.

She kept a concentrated eye on the picture in the book, while she walked the corridors. They seemed to last forever, but in the end, Gretel reached the sugar candy cottage. It stood in the middle of a clearing. Hermione stopped at the edge of the clearing. Right in the middle of the clearing stood a lectern and on it lay a blue-bronze leather book that was undoubtedly titled: Mind over Matter by Rowena Ravenclaw.

Hermione remained standing there, fighting the impulse to run over, grab the book and leave. But she knew it was too easy. There had to be a catch. She took another look at the picture, but Gretel was merely standing at the edge of the clearing and there was nobody or anything else visible.

'Wasn't there some evil witch in this story?' Hermione thought concerned.

And she remembered that the witch had wanted to eat the children, but was thrown into the fire of the oven herself by Gretel. And the witch had not appeared, until Gretel and her brother had started eating from the cottage. So if there was an analogy with the story here, it was most likely that the moment Hermione was to touch the book, trouble would arrive and not sooner. She started walking, wand at the ready. And as she had suspected nothing happened, yet. Hermione looked down on the lectern. The book lay there, seemingly innocent. She shrugged her shoulders. She watched Gretel standing next to the cottage, and Hermione turned in all directions to check which way the exit was.

'Only one way to find out,' Hermione said loudly, and she, recklessly, grabbed Rowena's volume and started running in the direction of Gretel's father's house.

A crackling sound and large flames erupted all the way around the clearing's perimeter, followed by the heavy sounds of footsteps that were heard in the distance. Hermione looked at the picture in the book. Sure enough, the witch had appeared in there and was approaching Gretel. She was right in the pathway towards the girl's home. Hermione started running towards the flames, straight for the witch, but she needed to pass whatever it was anyway. She directed her wand at the flames and cast a Flame Freezing Charm at them. She stepped through the fire, which now felt like a warm summer breeze.

Quickly, Hermione ducked behind the wall on her right, because she saw the huge dragon that was approaching towards her position. The witch in the picture was a gigantic, fifty feet high, ferocious looking dragon! She guessed that was the irony of the analogy with Hansel and Gretel, death by being burned into an oven and then eaten. Hermione remembered what Harry had done to escape the Hungarian Horntail, but she hated flying and did not have a broom to summon anyway. So she decided on the course of action Sirius had wanted to suggest to Harry as it was the same one she had seen Viktor Krum execute.

The dragon stepped around the corner. Hermione cast the curse and missed. The dragon breathed. Hermione rolled out of the way. The dragon roared another time and fire flew straight at her. She aimed one of Charlie's Extinguishing Spells to put out the fire, but she saw that it was not completely successful and she raised her left arm and cloak in protection over her head as the remainder of fire hit her. Hermione screamed as she felt the flames burn into her arm and she threw off the cloak quickly.

'Aquamenti!' she yelled and her arm was covered in water, putting out any residual flames that were still present.

The dragon, furiously, took in another breath. Hermione aimed again, and this time, her Conjuctivitis Curse hit the dragon directly in the eyes. It went into violent convulsions and breathed wildly into every direction, but now, Hermione was ready and her Extinguishing Spell did the trick. She skulked past the dragon as silent as she could to prevent detection, but it was not paying attention to Hermione anymore. It was wildly stamping with his feet and was breathing fire in all kinds of directions from the pain it sustained in its eyes. Several times its fire, accidentally, nearly hit her, but she made it to the corridor anyway and started running when she was certain, it could no longer hear her. She ran all the way towards the house of Hansel and Gretel, towards the exit out of this maze.

As she placed the amulet into the sign on the wall, she realised how very lucky she had been. Back in 1944 they did not have any Extinguishing Spells that were effective enough to put out the fire of a dragon, and the Conjuctivitis Curse wasn't created until 1965 by an unknown party. No one in this day and age would have been able to get past that blasted creature in there. She stepped through the hole and entered the corridor of Durmstrang again.

'Thank Merlin, it is empty,' Hermione thought, putting her wand down.

She was very relieved with that, because she knew perfectly well she could no longer pass for the professor, since the potion had worn off hours ago. She saw the dawn appear through the windows on the east side of the corridor. It was morning already.

Hermione looked at her burned-to-a-crisp left arm. It was completely black. It was absolutely scorched to the bone. She knew it was the reason why it did not hurt at all. There wasn't a single functioning nerve left to cause her any pain. Only her left shoulder was painful, but that was the rim of the burned area. Hermione looked at her forever-lost left arm. Dragon burns this severe were not curable, not even in her time. Charlie had the burn marks to prove how magic failed in curing dragon fire injuries. And her injuries were much more seriously. She knew she would lose the arm altogether.

A voice inside her head warned her to get a move on: 'You will lose more than an arm if someone finds you here, and those wounds kind of stick out.'

She pulled the fur coat out of her beaded bag and put it on carefully. And she started to walk downstairs. The castle was seemingly quiet. Not a breath was heard in a single corridor. Hermione passed a man, who lay on the floor sleeping. He had completely passed out. Another fellow was lying against a statue, hugging it. It was almost like the tale of the sleeping beauty. Everywhere, people were snoring.

Hermione went straight to the staff-only entrance door. She did not have time to fool around in corridors and that door was the closest one to the edge of the forest. When she opened the door, she saw to her utter relieve that the giant eagle was gone. The wall of ice was down and the mountains had moved back into their original position. Gellert Grindelwald had left already, and she could walk out of this place unharmed.

She was almost near the tree line when she heard it approach. Hermione swirled around on the spot and looked up into the sky. The chimaeras were back and so was the eagle! And it was landing in rapid speed. She ran the last bit to the trees, hoping she was not seen. Why would he be back? She knew the book was in her bag. Could he be aware of the fact that it was stolen?

She stood behind the giant fir when Gellert Grindelwald came running out of the eagle in an impressive speed, leaving his bodyguards far behind him. His face no longer showed the joyous, pleased expression it had before. He was furious about something, and Hermione had a sneaking suspicion it was her book nicking that was the cause of his fury. When he ran inside the castle with his goons, Hermione started running on the long and winding road out of there. But she could still hear the terrifying, ferocious scream in the distance. Grindelwald had discovered his book was gone.

Fire spread through the sky and Hermione saw the lake rise again. The mountains moved back to trap her inside the Durmstrang territory, and she halted. She wasn't feeling too great. She felt like she was burning up inside. Her temperature went through the roof, even though it was, obviously, very much below zero degrees out here. She needed to get rid of this winter coat. Desperate to cool down, Hermione threw off the thick coat. She knelt down and grabbed some snow with her good arm to toss in her neck and face. Angry shouts reached her ear. So she got up again and started walking, but her steps were no longer firm and steady. She was swaying.

A burning fire lit up the early morning sky behind her. It was as if a second sun had risen into the air. Hermione stumbled around to watch its origin. She did not even panic as she noticed the abnormally large flames, which rose above the trees. It was, after all, what she had expected to see: Fiendfyre. She watched motionless as the fire turned into an enormous flaming Chimaera and she knew who that gigantic, fiery beast was sent out to pursue. And she watched it move towards her, while she remembered that Gellert Grindelwald would be standing behind her, on this very road, to kill her. So she did not turn around, she was too afraid to see that killer green light heading towards her.

Another burning fire lit up the sky. It came from behind her. Acceptance fell upon her as she realised she would soon join Sirius, Moody, and Dumbledore. Hermione merely glanced for a brief moment at the second set of flames that were quickly turning into another fiery beast. She was surrounded by Fiendfyre and there was nothing she could do about that. The Chimaera came charging at her and as she fell to the ground, unable to keep standing anymore, she watched the most unusual scene in the sky. A Chimaera of fire was assaulted head on by a fiery Serpent, and the two creatures battled for dominance over the sky. It was the last thing Hermione saw before everything turned black before her very eyes.


	18. Chapter 18

---  
  
**Masters of Manipulation**

  


  
**Chapter eighteen**

  


  
The foul, disgusting smell was what woke her up more than anything else. Not the pain in her left arm or the damp, burning heat that seemed to soar through her body. Hermione looked at the green roof of the small tent she was in. It was one of those tents fit for Muggle backpackers. They were nice and easy to carry, but not meant to be used for anything else but sleeping, since they were way too cramped. There were two bunks in it, and one of them was occupied by her, while the other was vacant. The ridiculous amounts of blankets, which were placed on top of her, were more of a burden than a help, and she tossed them to the side. She felt warm enough as it was. There really was no point in adding more heat into her body.

  


  
Curious about the condition of her now painfully and smelly left arm, she pulled up the sheet that was wrapped around it. Her arm was covered in thick layers of dark brown ointment, a very familiar looking and stinking dark brown ointment. And sure enough, she noticed the jar standing on the ground next to her bunk. The lit was partially off and she noticed that half of the jar's contents had already been used. Hermione tried to use her good arm to get into a seated position, but someone pushed her back down into the bed.

  


  
'What do you think you are doing?' Tom asked annoyed as he tossed the blankets back on top of her. 'Are you desperately trying to lose that arm or what?'

  


  
'Riddle, what, where, why, how?'

  


  
'Anything you'd liked to get answered first, Granger?' he amusingly said, as he tucked in the last blanket so tightly she could barely move.

  


  
'Do you mind? I can't move like this,' Hermione said.

  


  
'That is the general idea behind it,' Riddle said cheerful as he waved his wand around to secure the blanket even further.

  


  
He snorted at seeing her furious glare. 'A Merry Christmas to you too, Granger.'

  


  
'What? Is it Sunday already?' Hermione shouted out. Had she really been out for an entire day?

  


  
Riddle picked up the jar and started to close the lit correctly, before answering her question.

  


  
'Yes, it has been Sunday for nearly fourteen hours now. You've been very ill. I wasn't sure you were going to make it. Luckily, I found this jar in your bag. I must say I was somewhat surprised to see the contents, since I wasn't planning on sharing this ointment with the world, but I guess some things do leak out.' And he sat down at his bunk, placing the now closed jar onto the ground.

  


  
'What does that ointment do, anyway?' Hermione asked curiously.

  


  
She had been wondering about the contents of that jar for so long she couldn't resist asking him, even if it did give away that he hadn't been sharing anything with the world at all.

  


  
'You don't know?'

  


  
'Would I be asking if I did?'

  


  
He smirked smugly. 'It heals all kinds of burn wounds by means of Transfiguration.'

  


  
'Transfiguration?' Hermione frowned at that thought. 'But if something is burned away, then there is nothing left you can use to Transfigure back into those missing cells,' she said, puzzled.

  


  
'That is what the ointment is for. It takes on the basic properties of the nearby healthy cells and duplicates them, until the wound is properly healed,' Tom explained.

  


  
'So the ointment gets Transfigured, but how did you account for the variation?'

  


  
'Its properties are relayed through the central nervous system. So in a way the mind tells the ointment what it needs to create precisely.'

  


  
His smug expression increased at seeing Hermione's astonished face. He had invented something like that already? It was a bloody brilliant solution. The variation was one of the reasons why the research to curing extensive wounds from burns was frustrating every Healer in her time, and he created a solution to that in his teens? But why would he have bothered to create this cure? And she just had to ask.

  


  
'I had some need for it after I sort of burned down the orphanage when I was fourteen. The scars are almost gone now,' he said joyous, like he had just told her a wonderful anecdote.

  


  
And he turned around and showed her his back. There was still some evidence of what must have been an extensive burn mark, but it had mostly healed completely and it was clear that in due time, there would not be a single mark left that gave evidence that he once had been severely burned.

  


  
'You burned down an orphanage and got caught in the middle of it?' Hermione said, appalled at the first and a bit amused at the latter.

  


  
'Yeah, well, I wasn't counting on the latter, but I guess I might have overestimated my skills at controlling Fiendfyre back then. It wasn't even capable of targeting that horrific Muggle that runs the place, but I suppose I can always get to her someday soon.'

  


  
The thought appeared to make him incredibly happy and Hermione wasn't at all pleased to be entrusted with the plans of another murder.

  


  
'That was your Fiendfyre back there, wasn't it?' Hermione asked, changing the subject.

  


  
'What, did the Serpent give me away?' Tom said smirking. 'Yes, it appears you owe me a life debt, Hermione. How very convenient.'

  


  
But Hermione merely snorted at that statement. 'I don't think so Riddle. You see, in order for your actions to qualify under those terms, there has to be a certain amount of selflessness involved, and somehow our Blood Bond pretty much excludes that, as I believe you are very well aware of.'

  


  
'Oh, you know that,' Tom said, sounding disappointed. 'I was already beginning to get the impression you had not read a thing on those bonds before you created one yourself,' and he grinned at her as he moved over from his bunk to sit on hers. 'Anyway, you need to stay immobile here. At least, until the ointment is done with its Transfiguration of your arm or there will be some nasty side-effects. The scaring can be dealt with later on.'

  


  
'Here?'

  


  
'Yes Granger, _here_ , in the marvellous world of Durmstrang,' Tom said sarcastically, and his hand gestured around. 'Mind telling me what you were thinking, going _here_ on your own?'

  


  
'We are still at Durmstrang?' Hermione asked, worried.

  


  
'I know I'm wonderful, Hermione, but not even I can incapacitate those wards without being spotted immediately. And, apparently, Grindelwald doesn't feel like lowering them. I wonder why,' he said mockingly, and he held up Mind over Matter.

  


  
Hermione already had a feeling that book would pop up into the conversation, eventually. Tom probably had been dying for an opportunity to go through her beaded bag to begin with. And he must have been thrilled that said opportunity presented itself. She was certain he would not have stopped looking, until he had examined everything that she carried around with her.

  


  
'I hope you enjoyed yourself snivelling around my stuff,' Hermione said grunting.

  


  
'I have to admit it was most entertaining. You carry around some very useful things in there. Although, for the life of me, I can't possibly imagine why you want to drag _this_ along,' and he amusingly held up Phineas's frame.

  


  
'I'm attached to it,' Hermione merely said.

  


  
Tom snorted. 'Hmm, it appears you're a much better liar, Granger, than I gave you credit for.'

  


  
And he dumped the frame back in her bag, while he tapped on Rowena's book with his fingers. 'I take it you nicked this out from underneath Grindelwald's nose?' Tom said nonchalant, but Hermione did not miss the shift in tone that told her he was impressed with that accomplishment.

  


  
Hermione casually shrugged, like it was no big deal, an everyday job.

  


  
'Did you ever plan on telling me there was a third book?' he pleasantly added.

  


  
'No, not particularly,' Hermione bluntly said.

  


  
'I thought as much,' Tom stated. 'However,' and he carefully watched her, 'if Ravenclaw has also made one of those books, then it is only fair to assume Hufflepuff has written one as well.' And Tom kept staring at her after saying that, but eventually, he withdrew his gaze and sighed. 'Impressive, Granger, I just know I have to be right about that, but it seems I can't count on you showing me the truth anymore. It was clever of you to hide those Occlumency skills from me.'

  


  
Hermione looked at him, confused. What was he talking about? She had not practised anything. He should be able to pick up on her thoughts easily. Perhaps it was the fever that blocked his ability to read her. Or maybe it had something to do with what happened at the Christmas Ball. She had, suddenly, been able to move again without any action on her part. Nothing made sense anymore, but she had an almost Trelawney-like insight that the balance had somehow shifted in her favour.

  


  
'So Grindelwald wants this book back. Too bad for him. I suppose we better hide it somewhere on the grounds. That way, if we're caught, he won't immediately have access to the book as well,' Tom said thoughtful.

  


  
'No, we need to keep it with us,' Hermione said sharply.

  


  
'Oh, why is that, Granger?'

  


  
'He'll find it, if we don't,' Hermione said certain.

  


  
Riddle looked at her suspiciously. 'Now, why would he find it? The grounds here are incredibly vast. And I can certainly put some securities around the book to protect it.'

  


  
'That won't do,' Hermione replied.

  


  
'What are you not telling me, Granger?' Riddle said menacingly, and he placed his hands on each side of her head.

  


  
'Oh, please,' Hermione said sarcastically, 'I don't know, Riddle. Why don't you read all about it in my mind?'

  


  
She had no idea why she said something so risky, but she had this notion and gambled on it. He grabbed a hold of her head and fixated his gaze on her. Hermione felt the same funny, electrical feelings as before, but it was obvious that he was trying to get the results he had achieved during the Dance and failed miserably. His eyes flashed red with fury. He pulled out his wand.

  


  
'Legilimency!'

  


  
Nothing happened.

  


  
'Well,' Hermione said thoughtful, 'this certainly is an interesting development.'

  


  
Riddle flew to his feet and aimed at her: 'Expulso!'

  


  
Tom paced out of the tent after the blast. Hermione watched the utterly destroyed bunk with some amusement. He had, apparently, changed his mind at the last moment and had directed his aim at the bunk instead, blowing it into smithereens. Hermione smirked deviously. She had been right; this certainly was going to be interesting.

  


  
'I wonder how far I can take this,' she thought questionably.

  


  
The next couple of days were pretty boring for Hermione. Her fever had vanished and she had realised the reason for the huge amount of blankets on her bed after that, because there was no heating at all in the tent. And it got very cold inside the tent, especially during the nights. Heat Charms were too easy to detect and Riddle did not dare to risk using them. He was convinced Grindelwald would have used Heat Detecting Charms. He charmingly informed her that it was what he would have done. Hermione made a mental note of that, before agreeing with his reasoning.

  


  
However, lying in a bed twenty-four/seven was beginning to disagree a lot with Hermione Jean. And that got worse after she began to feel an awful lot better and wanted to get up. But Riddle kept nagging that her arm was not fine yet. And he was, annoyingly, insisting on applying the ointment on her arm, after he saw how she, and I quote, 'made a huge mindless Gryffindoresk mess of applying it.'

  


  
There had been four occasions when Riddle had come running into the tent, had lifted her up, blankets, beaded bag and all, and had Dissapparated them away to another location. After which, he summoned the tent to follow them to their newest safe haven. The last time that happened, Hermione heard Riddle mumbling something about Grindelwald being a brainless twit for not trying to find some means to detect people Apparating. And she was certain he was making a mental note of that to himself.

  


  
Hermione felt it was too bad that the wards surrounding the terrain did not allow them to Apparate out of there, but she knew that they were lucky that the grounds of Durmstrang were so spacious that the Anti-Apparation Wards only worked sufficiently in clear proximity of the castle or whenever someone wanted to cross the outer barrier.

  


  
Unfortunately, the food situation, or better lack thereof, was beginning to take desperate turns. The plant life was uneatable. They had deemed sneaking into Durmstrang as a hopeless endeavour with the current security, and since eating animals required cooking, which required long-term heating arrangements that they dare not use… Well, it all meant they had not eaten anything for days. Snow could be melted into water with a quick spell that avoided the Heat Detectors or they could place it underneath the blankets in the bottles Hermione had in her bag. So drinking wasn't an issue, but they needed to eat soon or their respected moods would kill.

  


  
Riddle had been making remarks about how it was possible that someone who had the intelligence to create a bottomless pit of a bag had the idiocy of not taking one of the few exceptions of Elementary Transfiguration with her. Hermione had been making remarks about how it was possible that someone who had the intelligence to create wards that kept them hidden had not realised on the first day that he had got there that it might be a good idea to nick some food straight away, while the protections were still being set in place. So when it became Saturday morning again, and Riddle decided that he was going to break into the Durmstrang castle, no matter what, Hermione could not agree more. And they both left the tent to see if they could sneak into the castle to get something to eat.

  


  
Hermione was still getting used to how her left arm felt these days. It was heavily scarred with burn marks, but other than that the tissue had been nicely healed. The ointment was now only added in extremely thin layers and Tom had reduced the number of appliances to twice a day. He had not done it this morning, after Hermione had said that she was sure the smell would get her caught by the guards surrounding the castle. It was, after all, a very dominant odour. She had made several wisecracks about it to Riddle in the past few days, but he had merely smirked at her. And at some point, he had replied to her that she was being a bit of baby, which sounded too familiar in her ears. Unfortunately, he had made sure to be out of punching range at the time, so she had left it at that and had stopped teasing him about the odour.

  


  
Hermione felt their little raid went surprisingly easy. The guards of the place had become somewhat lacks after standing there for days without anything happening. Hermione even heard them complain about standing in the cold, while nobody would be foolish enough to approach this place anyway. One of them even questioned Grindelwald's sanity in thinking there were intruders at all. He claimed the man had got overly paranoid, because nobody would be interested in breaking into a school of all places. Hermione and Tom were able to ambush the two guards that were taking a smoke behind a tree, and they Polyjuiced into them. After which, they slowly made their way to the staff-only entrance. It was the closest door to the kitchen as Hermione remembered.

  


  
'I'll take the bag and retrieve the food. You stay here and watch the perimeter,' Riddle commanded, after they reached the door.

  


  
'I know what the interior of that place looks like, Riddle. So, why don't you stay here and watch the perimeter, while I go and collect the food,' Hermione replied, equally bossy.

  


  
'We don't need to get a decoration advice, Granger. You said the kitchen was right around the corner. I think I can find it,' he snarled at her.

  


  
'And I know I can find it, since I have seen where it is,' she sneered back.

  


  
'We don't have time for this. You're still getting used to how that arm feels and moves, while I have a fully functioning arm, which I'm used to. It makes far more sense for me to go, since I hope to stash away an awful lot of eatable things in that bag quickly. Now, hand me the bleeding bag before I do something we are both going to regret,' he added menacingly.

  


  
Hermione pushed the bag into his arms violently.

  


  
'Fine, but if you get caught, because you took a wrong turn, then don't expect me to come to your rescue,' Hermione hissed.

  


  
'How very Slytherin of you,' Tom snickered as he entered the castle.

  


  
After ten minutes of waiting, Hermione was beginning to get concerned. Riddle still wasn't back, and the Polyjuice Potion wasn't going to provide them with protection indefinitely. She had stood with the doorknob in her hand on a couple of occasions, but had let go.

  


  
'What is keeping that idiot? I swear if he's taking all this time, because he is wasting it with snacking in the kitchen, then I'm going to kill him,' she thought, irritated.

  


  
Hermione decided to go and check what was keeping him, but the door flew open and Riddle stepped outside. Hermione looked at him angrily.

  


  
'What was keeping you so long? It's only a minute walk from here to the kitchen and back again, and I believe that is even overstating the distance,' she said furiously, but she halted her tirade when she felt the slightest sign of his distress. 'What happened? Did they see you?'

  


  
'No, but there was this huge woman, who would not leave the corner, after I had sneaked into the kitchen. I had to hex her, so we better get out of here,' Tom replied evenly.

  


  
'You hexed her! Couldn't you have waited a little while longer? Now, they're going to know for sure someone is still here,' Hermione said, annoyed.

  


  
'Yes, because the missing food, of course, won't tip them of at all,' Tom said sarcastically. 'Besides, Grindelwald already knows we are here. I believe it doesn't matter that much if the rest of them also become aware of it, since they all follow his lead. Can we go now or do you want to debate the issue, until we're caught red-handed?'

  


  
And he started to walk back to the trees. A minute later, they heard shouts coming from inside the castle. Hermione and Tom looked at each other anxiously and walked a bit sturdier towards the perimeter. The door flew open and a brown-haired man shouted towards them.

  


  
'Jürgen! Viktor! Have you seen anyone exit or enter through this door?'

  


  
Hermione answered coolly, remembering the two men had been complaining about their situation. 'No, and we've been standing in the cold here for the entire morning.'

  


  
'Stay there and keep an eye on this door. If anyone wants to leave through it, take them into custody,' the brown-haired man ordered, before he went back inside.

  


  
Tom whistled softly. 'That was too close for comfort, Granger. I suggest we abandon this area quickly.'

  


  
'Sounds like a plan to me,' Hermione replied.

  


  
And they, quickly, ran into the woods, until they established a far enough distance between themselves and the castle to be able to Apparate elsewhere on the grounds again. They arrived at their tent feeling elated and giddy; and they were certainly feeling victorious when they sat down on Hermione's bed and ate some bits and pieces of the huge supply of food Riddle had deemed necessary to nick.

  


  
'What's this?' Hermione said questionably, and she held up a bottle of Firewhisky.

  


  
'Ah, you found it,' Riddle said gleeful. 'I almost thought I misplaced it.'

  


  
And he took the bottle, conjured up two glasses and started to pour the liquid in there.

  


  
'Why did you bring alcohol? Surely, we can't get intoxicated right now,' Hermione said sensible.

  


  
'I feel like celebrating,' Tom said in bravura.

  


  
He handed her a glass full. 'Surely, one glass of Firewhisky won't get us intoxicated and killed.' And he snorted at the thought. 'To our little victory, may it be the start of many more to come,' and he cheered at her, before he downed the drink in its entirety.

  


  
Hermione shook her head, but she took a sip as well, and then decided some French cheese would accompany the Firewhisky in a formidable way.

  


  
'You know I think this is the best birthday I ever had,' said Tom grinning, while he ate some potato chips accompanied with a bit of fried turkey. 'I should do this breaking and entering thing ever year.'

  


  
'It's your birthday?' Hermione asked. She had lost track of time.

  


  
'Yes, the 31st of December, all of New Year's Eve 1926, the joyous time of my wondrous birth into this world. Why so interested, Granger? Feel like giving me a present?' he teasingly said, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

  


  
'Yeah, sure, here have one,' Hermione answered casually, and she stuffed one of the chocolate chip cookies in his mouth.

  


  
Riddle snorted, and that … turned out to be a bad idea to do when chewing on a crumbling cookie. A piece got stuck in his windpipe. He started coughing; his hand went to his throat.

  


  
'Tom?' Hermione said, worried.

  


  
And she started to pat him on the back, which made things worse, because the effect was that the irritating bit of a crumb dropped further down into his respiratory system. He grabbed Hermione by the arm, panicking, while he tried to breathe. Hermione noticed in shock that his lips were turning blue. He was choking. She pulled out her wand.

  


  
'Anapneo!'

  


  
And his airway was cleared instantaneously. Tom gasped for air. He was still panting from the experience and he was still holding onto Hermione's arm.

  


  
'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I was just…,' Hermione said, concerned.

  


  
Tom was bending over double. His body was shaking violently.

  


  
'Are you all right? Tom?'

  


  
He roared with laughter. 'God, Granger, you and your cookies are going to be the death of me.'

  


  
And he guffawed and doubled over again, when he saw her angry face.

  


  
She hit him on his arm. 'That's not funny,' Hermione said, heated. 'You scared the shit out of me.'

  


  
'It – it is a … bit,' Tom hiccoughed, but he stopped laughing when he saw her flustered face and grabbed a hold of her. 'Come on Granger, relax. I don't plan to die just yet.'

  


  
'You could have fooled me,' Hermione sneered. 'Do you realise that … And I would have … Because then…'

  


  
And they stared at each other in silence. When the decision was made neither knew, but they both moved towards the other at the same time. Tom pulled Hermione towards him, causing her to end up squatted on his lap and Hermione grabbed him at the front of his shirt, pulling him towards her. Their lips met. And they kissed ferociously, their tongues battling for dominance, as if they were trying to breathe by sucking in that last bit of remaining air out of the other participant's lungs.

  


  
And her hands moved, touching his face, ruffling through his hair, grabbing a hold of his head in order to deepen the kiss. And his hands were all over her body and she gasped for air when he pulled up her shirt and his hands went underneath to touch her bare skin. Hermione felt like she was on fire, and Tom seemed pretty heated as well. And they moved as one when Tom laid Hermione down on the bed.

  


  
Underneath the bunk, a devious piece of parchment, that had mysteriously followed them all week, glowed brightly in the most yellowish of colours. It was a very happy today, for it had accomplished what it set out to do.

  


  
On top of the bed, two people were wrestling with the excess clothes they still had on. Tom was lying on top of Hermione and he was trying to kiss her neck and remove her shirt at the same time, which turned out to be too big a task for the Dark Lord. Hermione was trying to undo the buttons of his shirt, while his body was pressed on top of hers and that was also not a doable situation. Finally, they both realised their efforts were going nowhere and Tom, reluctantly, stopped kissing Hermione and sat up. His knees were on either side of her body, keeping her pinned down beneath him. But he did hold himself up, so he wouldn't be leaning too heavily on her hips.

  


  
Hermione, quickly, undressed him and he loved the way her hands caressed his torso when she pulled his shirt over his shoulders and tossed it to the floor casually. He grabbed a hold of her face and started kissing her again, while Hermione undid his pants. He groaned when she, accidentally, rubbed his penis in the process and he flicked his wrist to make his wand appear. This was all taking way too long in his book. Roughly, he pushed her back into the mattress and pressed his wand in her throat.

  


  
'Allow me to undress you properly,' he said heatedly, staring into Hermione's luscious eyes.

  


  
A small smile made it to his face as he, slowly, drew his wand down over the centre of her body, making her clothes vanish in the process. He admired her breasts, causing her to blush, and he grinned as he hopped down next to her and started to trace his wand up the inside of her thigh, while kissing and sucking on her nipple meticulously. Hermione whimpered and quivered at his touch. She felt like she was about to explode, while their contact sent out delicious jolting sensations through her nerves. When she was thoroughly undressed, Tom flashed his wand at his remaining outfit and it vanished too.

  


  
Within a split-second, he was back on top of her now naked body and he kissed her thoroughly on the mouth, while the bond between them went into overdrive on their extensive skin on skin contact. They both felt the power of the jolts increasing. It was smashing into their brains with the force of a sledgehammer, making them crave each other even more.

  


  
Hermione flung her arms around him, trying to pull his body harder against her, while their tongues were circling each other, moving in an elaborate dance of exploration. His hands caressed the sides of her body and she felt his arousal pressing on the inside of her thigh, making her buck her hips towards him. Tom broke the kiss and they gasped for air, while gazing into each other's eyes continuously.

  


  
'Have you ever done this before, Hermione?' Tom asked softly, while gently stroking her face with the hand he wasn't using to keep himself somewhat upright.

  


  
'No,' Hermione whispered and she was trying to pull him back to continue their previous activity, but Tom placed his fingers on her lips and stared at her caringly. 'Look,' Hermione said, 'I may not have much experience, but I read all about it and I know a first time is painful and that it isn't always as great…' She halted her rant when Tom roared with laughter. 'What?' she snapped aggravated.

  


  
'You read all about it,' said Tom, chuckling with endearment. 'I should have known…'

  


  
And he used his lips to stop her from responding. His hand moved between her folds and he rubbed her clit extensively, while his tongue began tracing circles over her nipples and he smirked when Hermione wriggled and squirmed underneath him as her moans became increasingly vocal and desperate. He picked his wand from beside the pillow and cast a quick contraceptive charm.

  


  
'You know, Hermione,' Tom breathed into her ear, 'first times are only rubbish when you are dealing with a complete klutz. However, if you prefer painful, I can certainly oblige, but it is absolutely unnecessary for those of us with some magical talent.'

  


  
Hermione frowned at him. 'What do you mean?' she whispered, groaning when he pressed another sensitive button on her body.

  


  
'I mean I can assist you magically, if you want. But only if you are certain you want to do this.'

  


  
'Oh, will you stop jabbing your mouth off and spoil the mood. Just get a move on,' Hermione ordered bossy.

  


  
Tom laughed again and he looked at her mischievously. 'So I am spoiling the mood?' he asked deviously, while casting a charm on her clit.

  


  
'Ohhh!' Hermione screamed in lust and wantonness.

  


  
She felt her insides were going to explode and she needed him desperately, as in NOW! He caressed her body all over, sending shivers down her spine and she tried to gain some control of the situation by pulling him against her, but he was by far the stronger party and he did not oblige her just yet. Tom started sucking on her earlobe, tickling her into insanity, while he pushed her legs apart with his.

  


  
'I will promise you this, Hermione.' _Kiss._ 'Your first time will not be great.' _Kiss._ 'It will be magnificent.' _Kiss._ 'It will be so unforgettable, ' _kiss,_ 'you will never want,' _kiss,_ 'to be,' _nibble,_ 'with another man,' _suck,_ 'ever again.' _Kiss._

  


  
'Jab, jab, jab,' Hermione started, but he entered her with a swift motion, while waving his wand at her genitals to help adjust her muscles to the unaccustomed movement. The charm Tom used prevented the normal painful sensations from happening, because it told the vaginal muscles what to do and it caused Hermione to only be aware of the wonderful feeling of being filled to the hilt.

  


  
'Yes!' Hermione yelled in delight.

  


  
Tom groaned. He threw his head back and closed his eyes. Oh fuck, she was so deliciously tight. He felt her hands on his chest caressing his body, before she grabbed a hold of his neck and dragged him towards her to attack his neck with her mouth. Her arms flung around his waist when he started moving inside of her. He was slowly picking up speed, while she spread her legs wider in order to give him more access. All his previous concerns about being careful quickly flew out the window when they became ferociously wild in their actions. Hermione scratched his back and left love bites all over his neck, while he pounded into her with vigour, grabbing her wrists and pushing them beside her head into the mattress.

  


  
'Surrender to me, darling,' he hissed, while rotating his pelvis and attacking her G-spot with a vengeance.

  


  
'Ohhhh!'

  


  
'Whose witch are you?' he snarled at the girl beneath him who began to shudder and shake at the unset of her orgasm. 'Whose!' he demanded, while pulling her wrists together, so he could hold them down with one hand.

  


  
'Yours!'

  


  
'Who?' he repeated, trying desperately to hold of his own climax, and he pinched her clit merciless.

  


  
'Oh fuck!' Hermione cried out.

  


  
'That's it, dear,' he breathed, 'come for me, Hermione.' He knew he found the right angle to hit her clit and G-spot with every stroke of his cock and he ravished her with furore. 'I want you squirming and quivering beneath me. I want to feel your surrender around me.'

  


  
He didn't have to wait long. Hermione threw her head back and yelled out his name as she came violently. He could barely hold her wrists in place when her strength increased with her feelings of ecstasy, and he felt her vagina milking his cock, drawing him in further and pushing him over the edge too. An incomprehensible scream left his lips as he spilt his release inside of her. And in the next second their bond strengthened beyond reversal. The jolt, which accompanied that, was so powerful it overloaded all their nerves and they passed out cold from its impact. And as they were lying on the bed, their bodies connected to each other in an entanglement of limbs, a satisfied piece of parchment stopped glowing and vanished into thin air.

  


  
BANG!

  


  
Tom and Hermione woke up from the loud explosion.

  


  
'What?' Hermione said, sitting up in bed, shocked.

  


  
BANG! And the tent started shaking.

  


  
'Bloody Hell! The wards are coming down! They found us!' Tom yelled, and he dragged Hermione out of bed.

  


  
They, each, flicked their wand, and they were both dressed instantaneously. Hermione grabbed her beaded bag. Another crash and the tent flew up in the air.

  


  
'Protego Totalum!' Hermione shouted, and a Silvery Shield flew around their campsite.

  


  
Tom grabbed a hold of her waist and he spun them on the spot.

  


  
'Oh no,' Hermione said weakly, when they remained exactly where they were.

  


  
Apparently, Grindelwald wasn't such a brainless twit after all. And with a loud burst, Hermione's Area Shield was torn to pieces.

  


  
'Get down!' Tom yelled.

  


  
He flashed his wand; a green jet flew of it, and he pushed Hermione out of the way in order to get another clear shot at whoever was out there. Hermione rolled over the ground and aimed at the bearded man she saw standing a few feet away.

  


  
'Stupify!' Hermione shouted, and the bearded fellow was thrown backwards.

  


  
'Avada Kedavra!' And a second Killing Curse flew from Riddle's wand, striking down another who did not dive out of the way fast enough.

  


  
Hermione, who had got back on her feet again, saw several jets of all different kinds of colours make it their way. She grabbed Riddle and pulled him down with her. The curses clashed above their heads and were diverted into several directions. Suddenly, extraordinary large flames erupted all around them. The flames were encircling them, until all they could see was Fiendfyre.

  


  
'Put those wands down, NOW!' Gellert Grindelwald had arrived at the scene.

  


  
'Get those flames any closer, and your book will go down in it!' Riddle yelled back.

  


  
Hermione started shaking her head. 'That won't work,' she hissed to Riddle, 'Rowena's book cannot be destroyed in that manner.'

  


  
Riddle shrugged. 'Maybe he won't know that.'

  


  
'Be my guest,' Gellert said, amused, from the other side of the Fiendfyre.

  


  
'See,' Hermione sneered, and she tossed her wand on the ground.

  


  
'Are you crazy,' Tom snapped at her, 'they will kill us once they have the book.'

  


  
'And he will kill us straight away if you don't put down that wand, right now,' Hermione replied.

  


  
'Both wands, please,' Grindelwald said calm, 'I'm not waiting forever.'

  


  
And the flames moved a wee bit closer. Hermione jumped backwards into Tom to get away from the heat.

  


  
'Watch it, Granger.'

  


  
'Tom,' Hermione said, eyeing him insistently.

  


  
He growled and tossed his wand on the ground.

  


  
'Excellent,' Gellert said, satisfied.

  


  
The flames died out simultaneously with the disappearance of their wands from the scene. Hermione noticed Grindelwald pocketed the wands, before he started eyeing them curiously.

  


  
'The book?' he said questioningly, and he held out his hand.

  


  
Hermione's hand went towards her beaded bag. Grindelwald raised his wand at her, and she froze up.

  


  
'Careful, missy, you don't want to get hurt now,' he warned her.

  


  
Tom was watching her as she, slowly, pulled out Mind over Matter from her bag and held it out towards Grindelwald. A simple Summoning Spell and the book returned back in the hands of its owner. Hermione looked apprehensively at Tom, whose facial expression had turned completely blank, but due to their bond Hermione could sense the turmoil underneath.

  


  
'So, the Brits have to send me a bunch of children these days? Did they run out of real Unspeakables?' Grindelwald asked smirking.

  


  
And the group around him started laughing.

  


  
'So who are you?' he asked sharply.

  


  
And before Hermione could say anything, Riddle had already responded.

  


  
'I'm Alphard Black and she's Hermione Malfoy,' Tom said evenly.

  


  
Hermione felt a huge sense of glee at her cost when he spoke out that last name, and even though it irritated her enormously, she could appreciate the quick thinking in coming up with two well-known pure-blood names.

  


  
'And you two thought you could steal from me?'

  


  
It remained silent after those words, but Gellert continued talking when they did not respond.

  


  
'It was rather silly of you to go after this book without taking care of the source of ownership.' And he twirled his wand around. 'You see, no one can take this book from me. I am its true owner as long as I own this wand. You should have challenged me for a duel. Any takers?' he laughingly said.

  


  
'No?' he added in fake disappointment at their continued silence.

  


  
'Then I guess you two must have some intelligence after all. I doubted that, you know, when I saw someone had been so unwise to steal the book to begin with. After all, only the true holder of this wand owns Mind over Matter. And the owner of the book is the only one who can decide where the book should go. Nobody else has a say in it. You should have done your research before you came here and tried to take it. Your little mission was doomed before it even started,' Gellert said calmly.

  


  
'So are you two of Albus's protégés? I'm certain no one could have got down there without his help, and it would be so like him to send me two kiddies instead of stumbling over here himself,' Gellert said, grinning.

  


  
Neither Hermione nor Tom responded to the sarcastic remarks, but Hermione felt the fury of the person next to her reach dangerously high levels at being called a protégé of Dumbledore and a kiddie. However, Tom Riddle's face remained set in that cool, collective, blank expression.

  


  
'Hmm, you are not much of a talkative couple, right? Very well, Vasili, let's make sure Albus regrets this. Kill them and sent their corpses back to Dumbledore.' And Gellert was about to turn around.

  


  
'I wouldn't do that if I were you,' Tom said pleasantly.

  


  
Grindelwald snorted. 'Wow, so you do know how to talk. I was afraid I was dealing with a bunch of mutes.' He was tapping with his wand on his hand, while he eyed Tom amused. 'Well, let's hear it. I loved to be entertained,' he said sarcastically. 'So, why should I keep the two of you alive?'

  


  
'That depends on whether you want the other volume,' Riddle said plainly.

  


  
Hermione swivelled her head sideways angrily. He wouldn't.

  


  
Grindelwald narrowed his eyes, but then, he hoisted his shoulders. 'Which other volume?' he asked casually, but it was obvious he knew what Riddle was talking about and was very, very interested.

  


  
'Infinity in Space by Godric Gryffindor,' Riddle answered coolly.

  


  
Hermione was sitting on a bed in the Durmstrang dungeon. Her arms were holding onto her legs; her bend knees were in front of her, and she was resting her chin on them, while watching the moon outside through the small, barred window. She had no idea of the precise time, but that moon told her enough. Her time was almost up. After Riddle had suggested that he would go fetch the book and hand it to Grindelwald in return for their freedom, Hermione had barely been unable to restrain herself from snorting out loud. She knew Tom Riddle would never, ever let that book escape his hands so easily. Grindelwald had considered this option and had found it an interesting one, but he had wanted a small change in plans. Gellert had wanted Hermione to fetch the book, while Riddle stayed, because, according to Grindelwald, she was more trustworthy.

  


  
Hermione had laughed out loud at Grindelwald's words. But her laughter had soon died out, when Riddle kindly informed them that she no longer had access to the book. And he was very accurate in describing her preset safeguards, so she was certain he broke them. Hermione had then reputed that if he were to tell her how to get the book, she could still manage to obtain it. At which time Riddle had found it necessary to ask her if she had, suddenly, become a Parselmouth, and if she really thought she would be able to get in and out of there. The Stupid Heir Boy had, apparently, hidden the books in the Chamber of Secrets. Grindelwald had watched their bickering with some amusement, but he had, eventually, ended it. And he had given Riddle twelve hours to get back here with Infinity in Space, or his little girlfriend would end up six feet under.

  


  
After Riddle had left, Grindelwald had dumped her here in this cellar. He had eyed her for a moment before leaving, and he had the nerve to advise her on his way out, that if she was to leave this place intact, she would do well to get another boyfriend, because the one she was currently seeing was no good.

  


  
'Yeah, it takes one to know one,' Hermione had sarcastically responded, causing Grindelwald to roar with laughter, while he had left the dungeon.

  


  
Hermione growled. She was going to be killed by Gellert Grindelwald if Lord Voldemort wouldn't make it back here. It was the most disturbing situation of her entire life. And she had seen some real disturbing events before. And speaking of disturbing things … had she really, really done last night what she thought she had?

  


  
And Hermione swore to herself that if she made it out of here alive tonight, she would find the true reason behind their current predicament. She would get her hands on every Blood-Binding Charm's book that was out there in existence. She had known when she placed the Charm in Godric's book that they would get bonded physically. She had known what the eventual outcome of that Charm alone would be. There had been some questions as to how the already partially Blood Bond she had with Riddle, would affect her Charm, and vice versa. But they could not account for the strange events that kept occurring between her and Riddle.

  


  
It would explain only part of the physical attraction, but these weird mental lapses were not described anywhere. Not even in the Necronomicom. And this ridiculous relationship with Riddle had to end, preferably sooner than later. It was when she realised that the relationship would also be over, if she died tonight. It would also give Riddle a free travel card on the road towards all four books.

  


  
'That prick, that unbelievable, no good piece of a foul… Arggh!'

  


  
Hermione rubbed her hands through her hair in frustration. She was so doomed. This wasn't going to end happily. Riddle would not show. He would be a fool if he did. And he was many things, but certainly not a fool. Besides, they could not allow someone with the intelligence of Gellert Grindelwald to get a hold of these books. That had the potential of a significant disaster written all over it.

  


  
Her pondering was disturbed when the door flew open and the curly, blond-haired wizard stepped through the door. Hermione got to her feet.

  


  
'I did say that boyfriend of yours was not to be trusted,' Gellert said plainly.

  


  
He flashed his wand. 'Avada Kedavra.'

  


  
And on January the first, 1945, Hermione Jean Granger died.

  


  
She woke up due to someone's annoying habit of continuously pushing into her shoulder. Hermione knew she had to explain to Riddle that she did not appreciate this as a wake-up call at all. But when she opened her eyes and saw Tom Riddle fast asleep next to her, she screamed her lungs out. A dash of red hit the sleeping Riddle and Hermione stared right in the face of another Riddle.

  


  
'What, how?' she asked dumbfounded, until she saw the book, Eternity in Time, in his hands.

  


  
'Are you crazy?' she bellowed, and her head swivelled between one Riddle and the other. 'What if we get stuck with another Ballroom or worse, because of your ignorant tampering with Time? Can't you at least wait, until we have finished reading every chapter and have found out why that anomaly occurred?' And she eyed him furiously.

  


  
'Get dressed Granger, we need to leave now. Grindelwald will be here in an hour,' Tom said calmly.

  


  
Hermione's mouth remained slightly ajar and her eyes widened in shock. Something had gone wrong the first time around, and obviously, it hadn't gone wrong with _him_.

  


  
'Granger,' Tom repeated, irritated, because she made no movement at all.

  


  
'Well, turn around then,' Hermione said bossily, and she made a rotating motion with one hand, while holding onto the sheet with the other.

  


  
Riddle raised his eyebrows in amusement. 'It's nothing I haven't seen or experienced yet, Hermione dear,' Tom said smirking.

  


  
'Riddle,' Hermione said warningly.

  


  
'Fine, fine,' Tom said tiresome, and he turned around, sighing exaggeratedly.

  


  
Hermione searched the floor with her eyes, until she saw her wand. She went over, got it and charmed her clothes back on.

  


  
'Could you hurry up, Granger; I have no intention of saving your cute, you-know-what, for a second time around. Ouch!'

  


  
Hermione had slapped him in the arm again.

  


  
'What about your other self?' Hermione asked the conscious Tom, as she grabbed her beaded bag.

  


  
'That problem will be solved, I believe, in less than an hour,' Tom said blankly.

  


  
Hermione snorted. 'You have that little faith in yourself? And here I was under the mistaken impression that… What was it again that you said? Oh yeah! Nothing was impenetrable for Lord Voldemort,' she said snickering.

  


  
Riddle frowned. And Hermione started laughing.

  


  
'Avada Kedavra,' Tom cast lazily, and the jet of green hit the body of Tom Riddle.

  


  
Hermione's jaw dropped. 'You just…? But…?'

  


  
'I believe you made an excellent point there, Hermione. I can't risk him making it out of here. I do not always carry this book around, after all.'

  


  
'But the Horcruxes?' Hermione said, puzzled. This Time Travel business was giving her a headache.

  


  
'I'm still here, so there is no need for them,' Riddle said smugly. 'Have you got everything?'

  


  
'Yes,' Hermione said, and she started walking towards the exit.

  


  
'Wait,' Riddle said sharply. 'We need to leave the book here.'

  


  
'Which book?' Hermione asked.

  


  
'Rowena's volume.'

  


  
'No way, Riddle. I did not come all this way for nothing,' Hermione said certain.

  


  
'We can't take it with us. The book wants to be with its rightful owner,' Riddle explained.

  


  
'What?' Hermione said, aggravated.

  


  
'Grindelwald said that only the owner could give the book away, and trust me, he's not planning to hand out nice presents to us,' Riddle added.

  


  
'But then it will be impossible to ever get our hands on this one? I don't believe that. There must be a way around that ownership. And I do not plan to let this book slip away. Not now, not after all the effort I've put into it,' Hermione said stubborn.

  


  
'Granger, I understand it's rather painful, but it is as it is. We'll figure out some way to get Rowena's book another time, but now we have to leave. Grindelwald will be here in less than thirty minutes. And I want to be off the premises, before he gets here. Hand me the book,' Tom demanded.

  


  
Hermione glared at him. 'Don't order me around, Riddle. I'm not one of your little puppets.'

  


  
He, swiftly, swirled over to her and pulled her around the waist towards him. When their bodies collided, he gazed into her eyes, while cupping her cheek with his hand. _'I would never mistake you for one of those idiots, Hermione,'_ he softly spoke, and he kissed her on her forehead. _'But you are mine,'_ he whispered seductively, and he started trailing kisses all over her neck. _'You belong with me,'_ he added smoothly, and his hands were underneath her clothes again. _'I know what you desire, Hermione.'_ She let out an involuntary moan when his touch caused her body to react. _'I will never let you go.'_ And she wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her tighter against him. _'Remember that, dear, never.'_ And he tossed Ravenclaw's book, which he had retrieved from her bag in the mean time, onto the bunk behind them, while they were kissing each other extensively.

  


  
'We need to leave,' he whispered after a while, flustered as well from their close contact.

  


  
Tom spun them on the spot, and they Dissapparated away mere minutes before some serious trouble arrived at the scene. They reappeared nearby the iron gates of Durmstrang in the same 'holding onto each other' position as they had left. Tom looked at the gates and tried to let go of Hermione. But she smiled, grabbed a hold of his head and waist, and kissed his neck. Hermione could just feel his smirk at her behaviour.

  


  
And she softly whispered in his ear. _'I should probably thank you for doing that again.'_ She wrapped her leg around his to buy herself some more time, and she focused. _'I would never have known how you accomplished this feat, if you hadn't tried to repeat your attempts to control me.'_ Hermione felt his muscles tense up against her body when she whispered those words to him, and she concentrated her mind at all her might. _'It was so nice of you to show me how it's done, though a bit unwise.'_ And she knew she had him when he could not move away from her. _'After all, I have a fully completed Blood Bond at my disposal, dearest, while yours is only partially active due to your delightful ancestor.'_ And she dove inside him.

  


  
The result was astonishing. His legs buckled, his full weight landed in her arms, and they crashed to the snowy ground together when Hermione could no longer support his heavy body, but refused to let go of her mind control. It wasn't until she noticed he had passed out fully, that she released him. She swore loudly at seeing his unconscious body.

  


  
'Riddle!' But he did not wake from her shaking his body around or from her yelling at him.

  


  
This wasn't what she had counted on. Hermione looked at the wards of Durmstrang. They were still very much in place and active, unlike Mr High-and-Mighty on the ground. How had he been planning to get out of here? Riddle would never have Apparated them so close to these wards, if he wouldn't have had an idea on how to lower them. And she glared at him furiously.

  


  
'This is so typical,' she hissed at his motionless form, 'this – this … overreacting when someone does to you, what you do to everybody else. Jerk.'

  


  
And she hit him, but she struck the book that was tucked underneath his sweater instead. Hermione rolled her eyes to the sky. Of course, Riddle had probably wanted to solve their ward problem by travelling through time again. It might be a prudent idea to get that book away from him, before he did any more damage to the continuum. She reached underneath his shirt and was in for a surprise. Hermione felt two books! And she pulled out Infinity in Spaceand Eternity in Time together. She laughed at the sight of Godric's volume. So that was how he had been planning to leave! She stood up with both books in her arms and levitated Riddle's body.

  


  
'I need to lower these wards. I need to be able to leave here safely with him. I need a space to take me home.'

  


  
A dash of gold emanated from Godric's book. The leaves started turning. A golden beam lit up the early morning sky and broke the wards. Inside her beaded bag, a piece of yellow, black rimmed parchment started glowing. Hermione grabbed a hold of Riddle's hovering body. She spun them on the spot and Apparated, but as she did that, she noticed the dash of silvery light that flew around them.

  


  
'Merlin, be Muggled,' was the last thing she thought in 1945, while she travelled to another unknown destination in Time with Tom Marvolo Riddle.  
  
---


	19. Chapter 19

---  
  
**Masters of Manipulation**

  


  
**Chapter nineteen**

  


  
A silver flash and Hermione crashed to the ground right on top of Tom Riddle's body. Her Levitation Charm had been disabled due to the Time Travel, and when his full weight, suddenly, fell upon her to support physically, she could not keep them upright. So they landed spread-eagled on the ground. Quickly, Hermione pushed herself back up. She felt the nausea and dizziness rise, and she hastily swallowed the contents of a vial of Invigoration Draught, which she obtained out of her beaded bag in a hurry. As she sat on her knees, she looked at the still unconscious Riddle and the two Founders' books on the ground beside him. She picked the books up and placed them inside her beaded bag as soon as possible to keep them somewhat safe, before checking out her surroundings.

  


  
It was a clear night and the stars shined brightly. One single cloud partly covered the moon and when the wind blew it out of the way, the moon lit up the area around her. Hermione sat opposite to a large yew tree. A small church was visible in the distance behind it and an old, desolate manor stood on the hill to her left. It had an unoccupied, derelict feel to it. She stood up and looked around the dark and overgrown graveyard.

  


  
'Where and, most importantly, when am I?' Hermione thought, checking the headstones for clues.

  


  
It wasn't until she reached a large, marble one that she knew. Two words that practically made her jump in the air: "TOM RIDDLE".

  


  
Hermione remembered very clearly what a nice, warm night it had been during the third task of the Triwizard Tournament. It was quite similar to this night, too similar.

  


  
'This can't be. Not when Harry…' But instinctively she knew it had to be.

  


  
Shocked, Hermione ran back to Riddle's body, grabbed him and started dragging him out of the area, until she remembered she was a witch and cast another Levitation Charm on him.

  


  
'We can't be here,' she mumbled, 'we must not be seen.'

  


  
She just made it to the edge of the graveyard, when she heard two people crash to the ground behind her.

  


  
'Where are we?' Harry said.

  


  
Hermione ducked behind a tombstone, while dumping Tom in between the large bushes. She saw Cedric pull Harry to his feet and the two of them were looking around. The Triwizard Cup had rolled all the way towards her. Something she was not thrilled about, because she could not afford to be noticed by them. As the two boys turned away from her to check out where they had landed, she quickly crawled underneath the bushes next to Tom. Hermione heard a nervous sounding Cedric suggest to Harry to keep their wands out. A short stature figure of a man was approaching the two Triwizard Contestants, and he was carrying something in his arms. Hermione watched how Harry crashed to the ground in agony, clutching onto his forehead. And she saw Wormtail kill Cedric at Voldemort's orders.

  


  
And while Hermione sat there, in the bushes, the events of almost three years ago repeated before her very eyes.

  


  
_'Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son! … Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master. … Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe.'_

  


  
And steam swirled around the cauldron and a high, cold voice demanded to Wormtail to robe him. Tonight was the night, Lord Voldemort had risen again.

  


  
Hermione's legs got cramped from sitting down on her knees the entire time, but she did not dare to move. She could not afford to give away her location to anyone, especially not after the Death Eaters arrived and Voldemort prowled around them. Hermione groaned softly upon realising he was in one of his talkative moods. This was going to take forever. And she hit Tom Riddle's body that lay next to her out of annoyance. Something she did again out of fury when she watched his older version torture Harry.

  


  
'I WON'T!' Harry shouted, and as he threw of the Imperius Curse, Hermione looked with glee at Riddle's body.

  


  
'Can't even get a fourteen year old to do what you want, Riddle? You must be losing your touch,' she whispered, while rooting for Harry, who made a run for it. In her direction!

  


  
'No, no, no,' she thought, shocked, while she ducked down a bit further.

  


  
She was appalled at the thought of the impending consequences, if Harry and the others would see her and Voldemort Junior here, right now. But Harry rolled behind the marble headstone of Voldemort's father, and another Cruciatus Curse cracked it on impact.

  


  
'We're not playing hide-and-seek, Harry,' Voldemort softly stated.

  


  
The Death Eaters laughed, and Hermione was, anxiously, rubbing her hands, as she watched Harry's utterly frightened face when Voldemort drew nearer to Harry's location. It became harder and harder for her to remain out of sight and not interfere in the matters at hand.

  


  
'Come on, Harry,' she whispered, 'you can do this. I know you can. You already did it once.'

  


  
And she saw how Harry's jaw, suddenly, set into a new found determination.

  


  
'Come out, Harry … come out and play, then … it will be quick … it might even be painless … I would not know … I have never died …'

  


  
Harry's green eyes sparkled with fire, and he stood up, gripped onto his wand tightly and flung himself from behind the headstone, facing Voldemort.

  


  
'Expelliarmus!'  
  
'Avada Kedavra!'

  


  
'Yes!' Hermione cheered, underneath her breath, and she flung her fist into the air.

  


  
The events of Priori Incantatem took place. She stuck out her tongue to Riddle's motionless body. 'You lose, again,' she whispered triumphantly.

  


  
Hermione saw the figures appear out of the golden thread of light, and she heard the voices of Voldemort's victims speak. She looked at the Triwizard Cup, the Portkey, which lay a few feet away from her. She had debated the issue of the Portkey many times with Harry and Ron, since it had been rather strange. Normally, Portkeys are inactive after use and they can be picked up by anyone without harm. No transport would take place, until they were charmed again. After all, they had travelled to the Quidditch World Cup by means of a smelly, old boot. A boot, which Mr Weasley had picked up after they arrived at the location, and he had handed it over to the Ministerial Employee without being transported back home.

  


  
Sure, there were Two-Way-Portkeys. But she had always found it peculiar that Barty Crouch would have gone through the effort of making a Two-Way-Portkey instead of creating the simplest version. After all, in his mindset, there was no need for someone to return to Hogwarts, unless he had been under the impression that Voldemort had wanted to storm the castle with a handful of somewhat disloyal servants, while the entire Ministerial Staff was present there. Harry had thought that, maybe, his parents would have done something to it. Since his father had been the one, who had told him to go to the Portkey in the first place. So Hermione watched the Cup with great interest. She was, finally, going to solve the mystery and see for herself, who had been responsible for Harry's return to Hogwarts.

  


  
And Harry pulled his wand up. The golden thread broke, and he ran for it, while dodging curses and other obstacles in his path.

  


  
'Stun him!' Voldemort screamed.

  


  
Hermione saw Harry dive behind a marble angel and aim his wand blindly. 'Impedimenta!' Harry shouted and to Hermione's joy and astonishment, he impaired several Death Eaters at once.

  


  
Harry ran past her, jumped over the Cup and raced towards Cedric's body. Hermione looked puzzled at the Cup. Nothing had happened to it. Harry's parents had vanished without charming it. Nobody had been near it. She knew that for certain, since she was sitting only a few feet away from the damn thing. Had Crouch really made a Two-Way-Variant? He wouldn't have.

  


  
'Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!' shrieked Voldemort.

  


  
A temporal realisation dawned upon Hermione, as Harry was pulling at Cedric's wrist and there was only one more tombstone separating him from Lord Voldemort. She pulled out her wand, aimed and non-verbally cast the spell at the Cup. 'Portus!'

  


  
'Accio!' Harry yelled.

  


  
Voldemort's scream of fury whirled around in the air when Harry caught the handle of the Cup and was pulled away, dragging Cedric's body along with him. Hermione let out a deep sigh and lowered her wand. That was just too bloody close.

  


  
'Crack.'

  


  
Hermione jerked at the sudden noise behind her and toppled over in the bushes. The branches cracked underneath her weight and she dropped her wand in between them, when she tried to grab a hold of some for support. Due to her rigid kneeling posture, her legs totally disagreed with this sudden change of position, since it allowed the blood to flow back into areas that had been vacant for some time now. A painful cramp made its way through her legs and she grabbed a hold of them to ease the hurt. But when a dark shadow fell over her, she lifted her head and stared straight into a set of crimson eyes, which monitored the situation on the ground before him quickly.

  


  
His yew wand flashed, causing one of his servants to run straight into the ward Lord Voldemort had just raised around Hermione and himself. Lucius Malfoy was thrown backwards across several tombstones, and he crashed into the marble angel Harry had been hiding behind. He fell down, crashing the Malfoy family jewels right on top of the previously, cursed-off wing, and an antagonising, painful scream escaped his mouth on impact. The other Death Eaters, who were following Malfoy, halted on time to avoid the same impact with their boss's ward after seeing the damage it struck on Lucius.

  


  
But Hermione had bigger worries on her mind than a bunch of Death Eaters. Her legs were killing her; she was unable to stand up because of that; and to top it all, Voldemort was now pointing his wand at her. A casual flick of it, and he held her wand and Tom's in his other hand. He directed one curious glance at his younger, unconscious self. A sudden flash of comprehension became visible in his snakelike features, and Hermione did not find the way he looked at her after that rather reassuring. Voldemort told his Death Eaters to move back to the clearing, after which he redirected his attention towards the two on the ground before him.

  


  
'Do not move, Hermione,' Lord Voldemort commanded, and he strode away to order his Death Eaters around.

  


  
Hermione rubbed over her legs to get the blood flowing, so they would work properly again.

  


  
'Come on, act normal, stupid legs, I need to get out of here,' she muttered to herself, while glancing sideways to Voldemort and his idiotic followers.

  


  
Finally, she was able to scramble back onto her feet. Voldemort was not paying any attention in her direction, but Hermione knew she still had to be quick, since she did not have a wand at her disposal. And she had seen that look on his face before. It was a definite sign trouble was coming. She just knew she needed to get out of here. She grabbed her beaded bag and made a run for it. A bright flash appeared as she ran into something, and she got tossed back to the ground. Hermione had run straight into Voldemort's ward, which, alas for her, worked both ways. Unable to move anymore, Hermione stared at the starry sky above her.

  


  
'This is just great, just great,' she grumbled to herself. 'Nice work, Granger. That certainly was exhibiting some excellent thorough thinking on your part. Gosh, I should have taken a hold of that damn Cup myself as well.'

  


  
And when the thought of Godric's book in her beaded bag came to mind, she was somewhat glad she couldn't move, because she wanted to hit herself over the head with the heavy volume for being so stupid to forget about a book that could take down wards.

  


  
A while later, it appeared Voldemort had done enough chitchatting, because the distinct cracking sounds of people Disapparating filled up the air. Hermione heard footsteps approaching, and there he was again, smirking down on her immobile body.

  


  
'I really thought you, of all people, would be able to recognise the wand movements, which accompany the casting of an Avalon Ward,' Voldemort said snorting.

  


  
Annoyed, Hermione glared at him. She hadn't been paying attention to the wand movements, since she was a bit preoccupied with her painful legs. And she was pretty sure he was very well aware of that little detail.

  


  
'No need to look annoyed at me, darling. You were the one who walked into it,' Voldemort cheerfully said, before he cast the spell that enabled her to move again. His tone changed, however, when he spat out the next order. 'Get up.'

  


  
Hermione scrambled onto her feet, while Voldemort summoned her bag into his hand and levitated his younger self. 'Let's...'

  


  
'Crack.'

  


  
Peter Pettigrew Apparated into the graveyard.

  


  
'Master, I…,' Wormtail started, but he did not finish his sentence.

  


  
His eyes widened, his jaw dropped and Pettigrew took an involuntary step backwards, when he realised he witnessed something, his master would not be pleased about. Because it was clear to Pettigrew that Hermione Granger was standing beside the Dark Lord in a rather unusual manner. She was too comfortable and too at ease for a Muggle-born witch, who was supposed to be friends with Harry Potter.

  


  
Hermione was busy brushing of the dirt, twigs and leaves from her clothes. But when she heard Wormtail's voice, she looked up in shock at the disgusting, little, rat-face of a man, and she halted her arms in mid-brush. He wasn't supposed to see her here. This could complicate matters severely.

  


  
Lord Voldemort sighed. 'Which part of the word _leave_ didn't you understand, Wormtail?' he calmly said, and he pointed his wand at the Animagus.

  


  
Wormtail started stumbling backwards in utter fright and he bowed towards Voldemort as he started pleading. 'Please … I won't…'

  


  
'Such a pity. Avada…'

  


  
'No!' Hermione yelled in fright.

  


  
She wasn't particularly attached to the traitor, but for as far as she knew, he was still around from where and when she came, so she couldn't just let him get killed. Voldemort sighed again. He seemed to get the reason for her objections.

  


  
'Well,' he quietly spoke. 'I guess this is your lucky day, Wormtail. Feel free to thank Miss Granger for saving your miserable life some other time, but I suggest you stay out of the way for real now, until I call for you, and then … we're going to have a nice _'conversation'_ on how I want my servants to behave.'

  


  
Wormtail shivered at hearing that and he wanted to move away, but Voldemort was not yet done.

  


  
'And Wormtail,' he added threateningly, 'if I hear anyone talking about this, anyone at all, I don't care whether it is Albus Dumbledore or some ignorant Muggle, if someone is talking about Miss Granger, I am going to be very disappointed. And I will hold you responsible for my disappointment, Wormtail, if you get my drift.'

  


  
Wormtail shuddered again. Clearly, he was getting the point, because he was muttering something incomprehensible about not wanting to share this at all with anyone, while he was backing up and shaking his head in fright to deny even a single accusation of him possibly betraying his Master.

  


  
'Now, get out of my sight,' Voldemort spat furiously.

  


  
Wormtail, quickly, ran off fearfully. But while he ran, there was a brief moment where he was glancing backwards at Hermione questionably. There was a small crack and then, Hermione was alone with two Dark Lords again. She felt it really was too bad they weren't both unconscious. Lord Voldemort stepped toward her and Hermione gasped when Voldemort grabbed a hold of her around her waist, and that disturbing, electrical flow went through her body again. Only this time, the force of it was far greater.

  


  
The piece of parchment inside her bag, unknowingly, emitted a devious glow and it snickered softly, when Lord Voldemort's red eyes flashed an even deeper shade of crimson. He stared straight into Hermione's brown eyes, while he made a casual movement with his wand, and Tom Riddle vanished from the scene. Voldemort pulled her close, spun them around the spot, and Apparated them into the Riddle Mansion. But he did not let go of her on arriving there. He held her close and caressed her hair. Hermione shut her eyes, when the whirlwind of emotions rushed their way into her.

  


  
'After thirteen years of being nothing more than vapour, thanks to you, it does feel so good to have a body again,' Voldemort whispered in her ear.

  


  
The hand, that was caressing her hair, tightened his hold on her head and tilted it slightly. Hermione did not open her eyes when hungry lips crashed on her mouth and demanded access. His tongue forced its way into her mouth and circled hers passionately. Hermione felt overwhelmed by the power that surrounded her. She could feel it entering her skin, taking over, and she had no choice but to follow his lead. Any ounce of control she had over her body flew out the window when Lord Voldemort kissed her and took charge of their bond. She couldn't do anything else but lean into his kiss and hold on to him, while his experienced mouth examined her and she could feel his body pressed tightly against hers. When he broke the kiss, he cupped her cheek. Hermione opened her eyes and met his gaze. She felt naked, helpless before him, while he stared into her eyes intensely.

  


  
'You will always be mine, Hermione, always,' Lord Voldemort said softly, and he stroked her face gently before letting go and swirling away to his younger self.

  


  
Hermione felt the usual feelings of distress upon their disconnection of contact, and she desperately tried to steady herself and to stop her hands from trembling. Her mind was screaming at her to get a grip, to regain control of her body and her emotions. A huge part of her wanted him to take a hold of her again and continue what they were doing before, but another part kept yelling at her, reminding her who she was dealing with and lusting at. This was a cold-blooded murderer of many, a sociopath, and a maniac whose only interest in life was to obtain power and immortality, no matter what the cost. This stupid bond was making her lose her mind. She had to keep her head together. She was friends with Harry after all. Yeah, Harry Potter, green eyes, round glasses, messy black hair, lighting bolt scar, archenemy of the man before her. She remembered him. Thinking of Harry helped, a lot, and she came back to reality.

  


  
'Sit down,' Voldemort ordered, looking over his shoulder at her.

  


  
He gestured towards the couch on her left, before he turned his attention back to Tom Riddle, who was hovering in the middle of the living room. He kept examining himself for a while, before turning toward Hermione, who had sat down onto the couch and was watching what he was doing.

  


  
'I suppose you just travelled away from Durmstrang?' he said.

  


  
'Like you don't know that,' Hermione replied grumbling, 'you're the one who preset the book for this temporal transport after all.'

  


  
He locked her eyes with his gaze. 'Hmm…,' he said after a while, puzzled.

  


  
Voldemort pulled the two books out of her beaded bag and examined them closely. 'Actually, I didn't do anything to the book. Strange, I always assumed it was you, who initiated this transportation, but you appear to be just as much in the dark about it as I am.'

  


  
Hermione couldn't believe her ears. It wasn't him? Surely, he had to be lying. Only, she didn't pick up on any dishonesty from him. She rubbed her hands over her red Durmstrang trousers.

  


  
'If it wasn't us, then how did we get here?' she asked.

  


  
'Oh, I'm sure it's just one more delightful addition to the mysteries that surrounds those volumes,' Voldemort said, irritated.

  


  
'He still didn't know?' Hermione thought astonished and somewhat worried. 'Were they ever going to find out the truth as to what happened?'

  


  
Voldemort tossed the books on the table and returned his attention back to hovering Tom. He, unceremoniously, dumped his younger version onto the other couch and started chanting, while making a swishy motion with his wand. Hermione had no idea what he was doing to himself and she got rather curious about it. Eventually, he ended his chants and seemed to be content with the result. Hermione shrugged when she saw no apparent change in Riddle's condition.

  


  
In the mean time, Lord Voldemort had paced to one of the dressers in the room. He rummaged through a couple of glass vials, picked out one and watched it closely. Hermione noticed he was tapping with his fingers on it. A habit she had got familiar with. It meant he was contemplating his options. In the end, he reached a decision, stood up and stalked across the room to where she was sitting. Hermione saw the brief hesitation as he held out the vial that was containing a dark purple potion towards her. It made her very suspicious.

  


  
'Take it,' he ordered.

  


  
Hermione accepted the vial and held it in her hand. She noticed the potion in the glass vial was bubbling like a soda drink. She had no idea what potion it was. What was the meaning of this?

  


  
'Open it, Hermione. I need you to drink all of it,' Voldemort said blankly.

  


  
His voice sounded emotionless, but Hermione picked up the slightest bit of guilt coming from him as he said it, and that did not do wonders for her already lacking desire to take a sip of that weird, bubbling, purple potion. If he, of all people, was experiencing feelings of guilt concerning this potion, its effects must be something really, really bad. So she tossed it to the floor and the vial broke on impact. The potion started sizzling and smoking, before it was dissipated completely. Voldemort merely glared at her, while she ruined his plans or so she hoped. He kept gazing as he pointed his wand behind him and summoned a new vial of the same potion.

  


  
'I don't want to force this into you, Hermione, but I will if you leave me no choice,' he calmly stated, while opening the next vial.

  


  
But Hermione felt his true emotions inside of her, and she knew he was not at ease nor calm about doing this. And she detected a small sense of annoyance that was obviously directed at himself for feeling this way.

  


  
'What is that going to do to me?' she asked frightened.

  


  
'I have to place a couple of safeguards between us, dear. Otherwise his,' and he glanced at his younger, unconscious version, 'continuing foolishness to underestimate you, will result in utter disaster for me. And I can't have you spoil my plans, Hermione. Now, drink it.' And he pushed the vial in her hand, while positioning himself next to her on the couch. 'I have plenty more of this potion, so there is no point in breaking that vial too,' Voldemort informed her softly. 'Drink.'

  


  
Hermione stared in fear at the glass vial in her trembling hands. She shook her head slightly. Her refusal was hardly noticeable, but she knew that he could feel her emotions just as she could feel his. She could not drink it. Something horrible would happen. She knew it. She could sense it. His hand wrapped around her hand holding the small potions' bottle, and he started to move it upwards. Hermione started to struggle. He grabbed a hold of both her arms and pulled her towards him. In their fight the vial crashed down onto the floor again, breaking into a million pieces. His wand flashed and she no longer had control over her body. Unable to move, she was lying defenceless in his arms. Another Summoning Charm and he held a new vial in his hand, opened it and brought it to her lips.

  


  
'Don't, please,' she begged, 'please.'

  


  
And Hermione had never been more frightened in her life when he emptied the bottle inside of her mouth and made her swallow it whole. His chin rested on her head, while he moved his arm down and he held onto her shivering body tightly, as the potion burned its way into her digestive system and slowly began absorbing itself into her bloodstream, attaching itself to every nerve it passed.

  


  
'This is definitely not a health beverage,' Hermione thought.

  


  
She blinked when the world started to swirl around her. Hermione felt Voldemort's arms holding her tightly in an attempt to steady her. He kissed her on the cheek softly. And the last thing she heard, before she passed out, was his voice telling her she was going to be all right. He said that she had nothing to worry about, that he would take good care of her, and that he was sorry. But inside her beaded bag that same glowing piece of yellow parchment started to interfere with some of the effects of the potion.

  


  
When Hermione woke up, she was lying on the couch. A pillow had been placed underneath her head and a blanket covered her up. Remembering what happened before she passed out, she sat up abruptly. Her hands flew over herself as she, quickly, scanned her body for abnormalities. She checked her feelings and emotions next. She did not feel any different at all, but she knew it didn't prove anything. She looked around the living room. Voldemort had left and so had his younger version. Hermione turned and placed her feet on the ground. It was when she noticed she wasn't quite alone in the room after all.

  


  
On the hearthrug next to the couch lay a twelve feet long, venomous snake. It was all curled up at the moment. The snake lifted its triangular head when it caught her staring. Its diamond patterned tail swung to the side as it uncoiled itself. Hermione had already recognised the Horcrux-containing snake named Nagini, when it had circled Harry at the graveyard. After all, that same snake would, in two-and-a-half years from now, attack Harry and her in Godric's Hollow. It had been quite a memorable event.

  


  
And this wretched, temporal mess, she was in, ensured the safety of the blasted creature, because she could not attack it without doing damage to her future, past, or whatever. The snake hissed and upon noticing its fangs, Hermione realised that attacking it without a wand would be a foolish endeavour anyway. Nagini slithered past her to make its way across the room. It was when Hermione heard the angry voices come from the other side of the living room door.

  


  
'I had to do this. You would have ruined everything.'

  


  
_'That is my decision to make, not yours.'_

  


  
'My decision is your decision. We are the same after all.'

  


  
_'You should not have involved her into this. She will use it against me.'_

  


  
'She can't, not anymore.'

  


  
A mocking laugh. _'And you say I underestimate her. You're a bloody fool.'_

  


  
The snake reached the door and started hissing again, making the arguments on the other side of the door stop abruptly.

  


  
'She is awake.'

  


  
_'Great, how much do you think she overheard?'_ Voldemort Junior spoke sarcastically to his older self.

  


  
Hermione frowned, because she thought she had not heard nearly enough. Especially, if one took under consideration that the rather interesting discussion, they were having, had certainly risen her curiosity. The door flew open and Lord Voldemort was the first to enter. Tom Riddle followed in after him. His arms were crossed over each other and a mocking, degrading expression was visible all over his face. Voldemort looked at the snake, and he started hissing and spitting without drawing in breath.

  


  
Nagini replied.

  


  
Lord Voldemort seemed to contemplate the snake's words. But Riddle hoisted his shoulders in annoyance at the snake's response and paced over to the other couch. He slouched in there and tossed the beaded bag, which he had been carrying, on the table, before smirking at Hermione. Suddenly, Tom angrily hissed something across the room to the two other parts of him.

  


  
Hermione felt this was all a very disturbing visual. And the more she thought about it, the more disturbing it became. Voldemort was having discussions with himself and, apparently, none of his other parts agreed with his assessments. She could feel the conflicting emotions that voiced their ongoing disagreement inside of her, even though she could not understand a word of what they were saying. And Hermione felt it was like watching a Multiple Personality Disorder in the flesh; not that she couldn't think of a few other psychiatric labels that Muggles would use to lock him up in a secure treatment facility permanently.

  


  
'Can at least one of you, please, leave this room? You're driving me nuts,' she blurted out, when she was fed up with having to deal with this conflicting roller-coaster of emotions.

  


  
Voldemort Junior tilted his head and smiled at her triumphantly. 'Told you so,' he sneered at his older version.

  


  
Voldemort Senior gave her a disturbed glance, and he swirled in front of her. Hermione backed up into the couch in shock, and she froze up, when he placed his hand underneath her chin and fixated her with his gaze.

  


  
'Hmm… odd,' Voldemort whispered. 'I'm not detecting any of the side-effects, yet the substance has clearly been absorbed.'

  


  
'What am I feeling right now, Granger?' he demanded.

  


  
'How the hell am I supposed to know? Do you really think I can separate all those feelings that are flowing around here between individuals?' Hermione said, outraged. 'There are three of you here, in case you haven't noticed. And to top it all, you three are rather in disagreement with each other when it comes down to emotions and feelings right now. I did not ask for one of you to leave, because of the pleasantness of experiencing these conflicting emotions all at the same time.' And she ranted on, when she saw his shocked features at her rage. 'What did you do to me?' she hissed angrily.

  


  
'Oh, apparently, not that much,' an amused voice sounded from the other couch.

  


  
Voldemort Senior swept his head over to Junior, who was leisurely leaning backwards on the couch. 'This is impossible,' Senior claimed, puzzled. 'She should be unable…'

  


  
Junior rolled his eyes at the ceiling. 'It's been more than fifty years. You have forgotten that nothing with her works the way it is supposed to.'

  


  
Voldemort turned his attention back to Hermione and gazed down at her contemplatively, while his hand started caressing her face gently. 'I suppose,' he said smirking to the angry, little witch on the couch, 'there is always another way to convince you to follow my orders.'

  


  
Hermione gulped. She flew to her feet and was about to tell him an earful of where he could stick his assumptions when his arms flung around her waist and he sat down on the couch, dragging her down in his lap. Hermione wriggled on his legs and tried to wrestle away, but he grabbed her wrists and pulled her tightly against him. He gasped with pleasure when she accidentally brushed his cock, but he still had enough of her resistance. He focused his attention on their bond and watched satisfied how his power overtook her.

  


  
Tom crossed his leg over the other lazily, while watching the exchange on the other couch interested. He smirked when he saw Hermione's surrender was imminent.

  


  
Hermione was breathing heavily when she felt the force of the bond increase dramatically. It felt like her body was crushing together. It wasn't painful, just very oppressive, and she stopped her struggle to regain her freedom, knowing she wasn't going to win this. Fearful, she yielded to his power. She didn't like not being in control. She always was in control. Lord Voldemort's lips brushed her neck and she shivered when he started nibbling at her skin there.

  


  
'That's a good girl,' he purred upon her surrender. 'Just relax, Hermione, I am not going to hurt you, _much_.'

  


  
Long, experienced fingers started moulding her fully clothed body and Hermione felt her muscles responding to the way he was manipulating them. Slowly, she relaxed into his touch and slid down a bit against him. He guided her legs to part and positioned them on the outskirts of his. Tracing the insides of her thighs, his hands moved upwards. When he reached her core, he squeezed her harshly. Hermione gasped and threw her head back. His free hand, immediately, came to rest on her exposed throat and he made her rest her head on his shoulder.

  


  
'Close your eyes, sweetheart,' Voldemort breathed into her ear. 'I want you to only feel what is happening to you.'

  


  
Hermione complied and he captured her mouth, ravishing it with his. It felt so good to have his tongue inside of her; she wanted it to remain there forever. But he withdrew quickly, making her whimper in disappointment. She opened her eyes and looked at him, pleading for more, but he grabbed her face roughly.

  


  
'I did not give you permission to open your eyes, witch,' he hissed. 'Do you want me to punish you for your disobedience?'

  


  
Hermione shook her head frightened.

  


  
Voldemort smirked. 'Then, do as you're told, my little Gryffindor. Or you will experience the wrath of Lord Voldemort first hand.'

  


  
Quickly, she closed her eyes again. She really didn't need anymore incentive.

  


  
'Yessss,' Voldemort hissed, 'now, you are the compliant, submissive girl you ought to be.'

  


  
A stream of unidentifiable, familiar hissing left his mouth next to her ear, while his hands came to rest on her shoulders. Hermione heard the couch on the other side of the table creak, indicating Tom had risen from it. When Tom responded something back to his older self in Parseltongue, Hermione realised he was standing right before them. She held her breath when another pair of hands came to rest on her legs. The jolt that accompanied the contact with a second individual, she was bonded with, was immense. She wondered if it felt the same to them, while she trembled unwillingly as Tom's hands travelled to her hips, followed her waistband, and started unbuttoning her pants. Voldemort's hands were moving to her blouse and he ripped it open in a single, violent movement, causing her to jerk in shock. Her blouse was gone the next minute and she moaned when his hands caressed the bare skin on her belly. Her bra went the same way of least resistance and two hands took a hold of her breasts and started tormenting them.

  


  
'Lift that cute arse of yours,' Voldemort ordered softly.

  


  
She did as she was told and felt how her pants and knickers were taking down in a single pull. It was all gone so quickly Hermione suspected Tom had used magic to help him remove the clothes on her lower body. A pair of lips made contact with hers and she reciprocated the kiss hungrily. She felt her legs being pushed further apart and someone began licking his way up the inside of one of her thighs, while his hands were stroking her skin too. Hermione's fingers dug deep into the couch. Jolts struck her body from so many directions that Hermione had no more defensive against it. The bond overwhelmed her when she was the sole target of the two people she had a connection to. She groaned in his mouth when he pinched her nipple.

  


  
But when Tom's mouth landed on her clit, her muffled screams pierced the air around them. His tongue started to stroke her pink flesh and he alternated his movements with sucking and nibbling there as well. Voldemort left her mouth and started trailing her face and neckline with his tongue. Hermione yelled, squirmed and trashed violently. Two strong arms took a hold of her and held her in place. She felt magic swirl through the air and the next thing she knew she was laying against a naked, male body. A sharp intake of breath did not relieve the sensation she was feeling now. It was maddening. It was just too much contact. She just knew she would go nuts now. This was going to fry her brain for sure. She couldn't take it anymore.

  


  
'Open your eyes, Hermione,' a content voice spoke.

  


  
Two crimson eyes on a smiling, snakelike face greeted her, while Tom sneaked his tongue in her opening. 'How are you doing, dear?' Voldemort asked teasingly, and he attacked her breast with his mouth, before she could reply.

  


  
'Oh Fuck! Oh God! Fuck!' Hermione yelled.

  


  
A low chuckle was followed by another burst of Parseltongue that left Lord Voldemort's lips fluently, like it was the language he was born to speak in. It was so unlike when Harry spoke it. With Harry there always was some restraint in his speech, like he needed to concentrate real hard to get it right. With Tom it just graced through the air in waves of slithering motion. Hermione realised she just loved the sound of it and she moaned in pure, unsanctioned lust.

  


  
However, she did not love the action that followed it, because Tom's mouth left her very happy place and he rose before her. Hermione whimpered in disappointment, but Voldemort did not grant her time to contemplate on her loss, because he simply threw her in Tom's waiting arms. Hermione flung her arms around his neck, while Tom pulled her naked body against his still fully clothed one and he captured her lips, making her taste herself on his mouth. Her hands roamed through his hair as they deepened the kiss.

  


  
The warmth of another body invaded her senses and she shuddered, while Voldemort traced her sides with his fingers as he pressed himself against her too. She could feel his arousal pressing against her body and the sheer size of it made her quiver. She totally ignored the fact that it had already been inside of her once, because all she could think was that there was no way in hell, it was ever going to fit inside of her, not in a million years. Lord Voldemort slowly followed the contours of her arms, entwining their fingers and guiding her hands to Tom's robes.

  


  
'Undress him,' he ordered calmly.

  


  
That was not something he had to say twice. Tom's clothes were gone in record time, while his older version was massaging her spine thoroughly, going lower and lower. 'Let's see how you feel between us, Granger,' Tom said grinning.

  


  
Hermione screamed when two naked, male bodies sandwiched her between them. Her arms flung around Tom's waist to steady herself, while her head was leaning sideways in between two chests. Her heart was pounding painfully, her breaths became erratic and faltered, her nerves were overloading, her brain shut down, and her core was yearning to be filled. She felt an ache unlike anything she ever felt before. It felt like she was burning up inside. She closed her eyes.

  


  
'Please,' she begged, barely audible, 'I can't take this anymore, please.'

  


  
But her begging fell on deaf ears. Voldemort Senior flashed his wand around, tossing the table out of the way. And he pulled her arms away from Voldemort Junior and lowered Hermione on the rug with him, keeping her back firmly against him. Hermione felt relieved for a second when she no longer had the impact of the bond from two people.

  


  
'Take her,' Voldemort whispered hoarsely to Tom. 'Show her who she belongs to.'

  


  
Her relieve did not last long. Tom moved on top of her, making Hermione yell in agony at the recurring contact. It felt like her head would explode. Oh hell, it felt like her entire body would explode. Tom entered her abruptly and Hermione screamed in pain. Gone was the careful, considerate lover, she had been with the other day, to be replaced with this violent, domineering, brutal being, who was pounding into her like he was trying to rip her apart. And if Senior wouldn't have had such a tight grip of her arms, she might have tried to push him away. But now, she couldn't. She was helpless, while Tom showed her who was in control. Hermione didn't even realise how much she had pressed her hips back into the body behind her, until, suddenly, Voldemort lifted his hips, making hers move with him, so she met Tom's stroke halfway. Stars dwindled in front of her eyes from the impact. And as pain mixed with pleasure, Hermione knew she was a very, very sick individual for liking this.

  


  
And so it went on, and on, and on. Soft lips were sucking on her ear and the sensitive spot in her neck, soothing and comforting her, kissing every sensitive inch of her skin, while another attacked her pussy. Hermione couldn't even see straight anymore. She had no idea who was on top and who wasn't. Who was kissing her where, when, how and what. She relinquished her mind, body and soul to the darkest wizard of all, and she loved every moment of it. He guided her into positions she had never been aware that her body was capable of doing and he showed her pleasures she didn't know existed. He made her climax so many times she felt exhausted. She begged him to stop, to please have mercy, but all he did was laugh and he cast another charm on himself and his counterpart that enabled them to keep going with vigour.

  


  
'We are nowhere near done with you, darling,' Voldemort whispered menacingly in her ear. He conjured a small kitchen chair out of nothing and pulled her on his lap in it. Hermione was feebly hanging in his arms. 'We won't stop, until you are thoroughly aware, who is your master and who you answer to.' He nodded to Tom to proceed and Tom climbed on top of her lap, grabbing her head and kissing her mouth roughly. 'Comply, witch, feel who owes your body,' Voldemort hissed, while Tom started to suck her nipples, sending such strong signals through her body that made her already thoroughly punished vagina begging for more. 'It's time you learnt the true value of the Dark Arts,' Voldemort said, licking her skin. His yew wand traced the lines of her face, while he laughed at her moans. 'You like this, witch?'

  


  
'Yes, my Lord,' Hermione breathed.

  


  
'Good answer, little one,' he purred, and another charm struck her body, making her scream out his name.

  


  
He turned his attention to Tom. 'Stop for a moment,' Voldemort ordered, 'and learn how to subdue an insolent witch completely.'

  


  
Reluctant but interested, Tom withdrew his mouth from Hermione's breasts, making her whimper in disappointment. And he stepped back, smirking at her desperation, which was about to increase tenfold when Lord Voldemort swung her vulnerable body around to face him. Her legs positioned at his sides, she grabbed a hold of his neck to, somehow, stay upright.

  


  
His crimson eyes sparkled at her viciously, causing her stomach to lurch and her heart to do a little somersault in anticipation. He swirled his wand around above their heads and Hermione looked up in wonder. A sparkling circle of different coloured lights hung above her, before it twirled down around her body. She closed her eyes and gasped for air as lust took over and made her grave the snakelike man before her beyond reason. She felt his erection press against the entrance of the place that needed to be filled before she would go mad, and she tried to move herself around him, but he halted her.

  


  
'Not yet, doll,' Voldemort said softly, 'you are not worthy of my cock before you've done everything I ask of you.'

  


  
He told Tom to take a hold of her and she felt two delicate, powerful hands grasp her sides. 'Lean against him, Hermione, and place your arms around his neck, I want to see your breasts in all their glory,' Voldemort ordered.

  


  
She raised her arms above her head and wrapped them around Tom's neck. Her back was now firmly pressed against his lean chest and the contact made her moan in wantonness. And said wantonness became worse when Voldemort pointed his wand at her nipples and cast another Sex Charm at her. Her breasts became so sensitive that his gaze alone made her come. Her vaginal muscles started clenching and unclenching at the empty void that was there and she trembled in desire and agony.

  


  
'Don't you love the Dark Arts now, Hermione?' Voldemort said, while smiling satisfied at her desperate form. 'You want to know what this will do to you in the end, don't you dear?'

  


  
Hermione nodded and groaned when he hit her with another charm instead of telling her the answer. She was shaking relentlessly now without a release. It was killing her. He was killing her. She was sure of it now. Her head leaned back against Tom and she saw his smug smile looking down at her.

  


  
'Move your legs around my shoulders,' Voldemort commanded. 'I want you to grant me the best possible access you can give me to yourself. Submit your body to me, darling.'

  


  
She tried, but was unable to move her legs with the required coordination, so she failed miserably. She could tell by his condescending, triumphant expression he had been expecting this outcome.

  


  
'Do you require assistance?' he smoothly asked.

  


  
Hermione looked at the emancipated, snow-white face apprehensively. She was burning up, and she had the distinct feeling his help would be depending on her answer here. 'Yes, Master,' she whispered humble, 'I want to please you.'

  


  
'Hmmm…,' Voldemort said contemplatively and he cupped her cheek. 'Slippery answer, Granger, I guess a part of you must belong in Slytherin.'

  


  
'I belong wherever you send me, my Lord.'

  


  
'Good girl,' Voldemort said and he flung her legs over his shoulders. 'You are beginning to understand your position. It will be time to seal it.'

  


  
Lord Voldemort looked up at Tom. 'Hold onto her waist tightly and place one hand on her heart, whatever happens don't let go. She will be yours alone for eternity, after I am done with her.'

  


  
Tom's hands moved from her sides and he placed his palm on her chest over her heart, while his other arm wrapped around her waist tightly. Lord Voldemort locked her eyes with his gaze when he pushed his yew wand into her sanctity and started twirling it around inside of her, brushing her walls with dark magic, while he was chanting in some foreign, ancient tongue. Hermione felt herself go weak with every minor motion his wand made. She was shivering fiercely; intoxicated by the wizard, who was enchanting her fully. Her insides were squirming and twisting and she felt her body changing, becoming his to have and to hold, forever. She trashed violently when her desire reached astonishing new heights, forcing Tom to hold her tighter, so she wouldn't fall. She didn't know who she was anymore. The world was swirling around her, and all she saw were crimson eyes that would be her salvation. She knew that much. She was sure of it.

  


  
'I'll take care of you, my dearest, all you need to do is repeat my words,' Lord Voldemort said seductively, 'do you understand?'

  


  
'Y-y-yes,' Hermione stuttered, panting.

  


  
'I, Hermione Jean Granger, give my body to one man only,' he exclaimed calmly.

  


  
Hermione frowned and she hesitated. Next, all her muscles contracted and her genitals ached ruthlessly. 'Say it,' Lord Voldemort repeated persuasively. 'Or you will feel my wrath for the rest of your life, until you cave.'

  


  
Hermione trembled. She was feeling trapped and she was indecisive to the best choice of action. Lord Voldemort leaned forward and twirled his wand one more time, making her yell and trash in Tom's arms.

  


  
'You are at my mercy, dear, it would be wise to comply with my wishes, since we already passed the point of no return a long, long time ago,' he whispered sensual against her mouth, enthralling her completely. 'And I can be generous to those who serve me, Hermione, very generous. And you, my dear, are the one who matters most to me. I want you. And Lord Voldemort always gets what he wants. Now, say it.'

  


  
'I, Hermione Jean Granger, give my body to one man only,' Hermione softly spoke, defeated.

  


  
It was like a lighting bolt left his wand and struck her insides when her words sealed the enchantment Voldemort placed on her. Quickly, he withdrew it, grabbed her hips and slammed her around his cock. Hermione screamed as he hit her G-spot brutally. The position of her legs granted him the option to strike her deeper than before. His fingers pinched her clit, making her wriggle and squirm wholeheartedly.

  


  
'Come for me, Hermione,' Voldemort snarled victoriously. 'I want to feel you clenching around my cock. I want to see you submit to me fully. And when we've sealed our bodily connection, you will never find pleasure with another man. Never.'

  


  
Voldemort grabbed her hips again and he looked at Tom. 'I've got her now. Keep your hand on her heart and use the other to help her come,' Voldemort said to Tom, 'we need this to happen quickly! And we need to fill her with our essence everywhere. So get ready to enter that cute arse of hers.'

  


  
Tom's hand went to her clit and he started rubbing it fervently. Voldemort moved Hermione roughly over his cock, thrusting deep inside of her, tilting his pelvis to hit every sensitive area inside of her. Hermione didn't know how long she would be able to feel this way. It was as amazing as it was tiring. Every inch of her being tingled and despite her exhaustion she met his thrusts fiercely. Wanting him to enter her further, wanting every bit of herself to be filled with this man, this wizard, who made her feel more alive than she ever had been. Voldemort slammed her hard on him again and pulled her against his chest, pushing her legs down. Her arms flung around his neck and she gazed into his eyes heatedly.

  


  
'Oh, you like feeling me fill you to the hilt, don't you Granger?' he hissed.

  


  
Hermione nodded hypnotically.

  


  
He laughed. 'We are going to fill every part of you, my filthy, little Mudblood,' he added smirking. 'Aren't you ready yet?' he snarled to Tom.

  


  
'Almost there,' Tom breathed.

  


  
She felt his tip against her behind. A charm flew through the air, adjusting her anus as he entered her, so he was able to move his cock in completely. She was sandwiched between them as they filled her up. Smirking, Voldemort rotated her around a bit making their cocks stroke her walls, while they widened her passages. Hermione couldn't take it anymore, she wanted to come, and she needed her release. Why was he stalling?

  


  
'When I tell you too, pet, you will get that luscious mouth of yours on mine and you will follow my lead as I devour every part of you.' He turned his attention to Tom. 'We will need to move coordinated. You will have to move and keep her body in position, while I hold her head, so she won't escape us.'

  


  
Tom nodded and took a hold of Hermione's waist with his free arm, while his hand remained on her heart. Voldemort grabbed her head and she felt his fingers entwining around her hair. His other hand waved his wand and pointed it at her clit, causing it to be stimulated continuously. 'Now, my dear,' Voldemort ordered and he pulled her head toward him.

  


  
Hermione's lips crashed on his and his tongue entered her immediately. They moved her over their cocks with a vengeance and Hermione felt how every fibre of her body submitted to him, surrendering to the pleasure that was given to her. They came simultaneously, and she felt her muscles clench around him, drawing him in further, milking his considerable length. He spilt his release inside of her vagina, while sucking on her mouth, tantalising her senses. Tom snarled her name when he came a few seconds later. And as she felt his hot semen enter her too, a piercing sensation struck her heart and genitals, connecting her body to Tom's forever.

  


  
They withdrew from her and Lord Voldemort took a hold of her head with both hands, gazing at her intensely satisfied, before kissing her forehead softly and lifting her worn-out body in his arms. That night she slept like a baby, all tangled up between the two men, who were in fact one and the same person. If she would have been awake, the concept would have freaked her out, but she was very much asleep.

  


  
When she woke the next morning, Voldemort Junior was busy getting dressed, while Voldemort Senior was nowhere to be seen. Hermione took his example and put on her Hogwarts' outfit again, before she followed him down to the living room, where they were greeted by a furiously hissing snake.

  


  
Tom looked at Voldemort. 'She is hungry, haven't you fed her yesterday?'

  


  
'I forgot,' was the short, dismissive reply.

  


  
'I can eat her,' the snake suggested in Parseltongue, while looking at Hermione.

  


  
Simultaneously, Senior and Junior responded angrily: 'NO!'

  


  
The three of them started arguing in Parseltongue, and in the end, the snake haughtily turned away from them. On its way out the door, Nagini hissed something to Hermione that she did not understand, but she got the general feel behind it.

  


  
'It's rather impolite to give people names, when they can't understand what you're saying!' she shouted out after it, cross.

  


  
'It said…,' Tom started, amused.

  


  
'You mean you said,' Hermione corrected him.

  


  
'Well, technically that piece is still inside of me, so I think I'm allowed to call the snake it at the moment,' Tom rebutted.

  


  
'Oh, and why would I agree with anything you say, when you obviously are experiencing such a hard time trying to convince yourself that what you're saying is right,' Hermione tauntingly replied.

  


  
'That's quite enough,' Voldemort interrupted. He stared at Hermione, who obviously was still able to resist him mentally, and he was thoroughly annoyed that his potion failed to achieve the required results. 'You two need to leave. You're both in my way.'

  


  
He grabbed Salazar's book and…

  


  
'Oh terrific, another Ballroom,' Hermione said dryly.

  


  
She sank her head in her hands, shaking it sideways out of sheer disbelieve that they were going to do this again without a full and thorough understanding of the consequences involved. It was silent for a while after her statement, but then, Voldemort hissed at the book and handed it to Tom.

  


  
'Remember what I said. It is vital you obtain it quickly upon arriving there. We can't afford any temporal mishaps.'

  


  
Hermione looked up in curiosity at those words Voldemort Sr. spoke to Voldemort Jr.

  


  
'I will never get to it,' Tom sneered back. 'Dumbledore is not an idiot. He will have placed it under heavy surveillance.'

  


  
'And I already told you that where I am sending you, you will be able to get your hands on it. I made certain of it. I know how that old, Muggle-loving fool thinks. Now, leave!' And Lord Voldemort swirled out of the room, leaving behind an angry Tom and a bemused Hermione.

  


  
'What was that all about?' Hermione thought, while she looked amused at Junior's obvious anger.

  


  
'You know, if you disagree with yourself, you can always change the destination,' she said grinning.

  


  
'No, you can't,' Tom answered through gritted teeth. 'Once Eternity in Time is set for a specific date, it needs to travel there before you can set a new destination.'

  


  
'Oh, I don't recall you telling me that during our meetings in the Room of Requirement,' Hermione said suspiciously.

  


  
'I've just found out about it too,' Tom said, obviously annoyed.

  


  
The corners of Hermione's mouth twitched upwards.

  


  
'Stop laughing at me, Granger,' Riddle said, pissed.

  


  
Hermione could not hold it in any longer. She guffawed right in his face. It was rather amusing to see him get annoyed by himself.

  


  
'Now-ow … you know-ow … how other … p-people feel about you-hou,' she hiccoughed, holding onto her belly, because it was beginning to cramp severely due to her uncontrollable laughter. And she roared with laughter, while rolling back on forth on the couch.

  


  
'Funny, Granger,' his voice replied, coming from straight above her.

  


  
She shook out her hands; tried to control herself; stopped her laughter; looked up, and saw his irritated features. 'Pfffttt… HAHAHAHA!' And she doubled over again.

  


  
After quite some time, Hermione was finally through laughing every time she took a glance in the direction of Tom, who had sat down with an exaggerated sigh on the living room table before her.

  


  
'Are you done now?' he calmly asked.

  


  
Though, the corners of his mouth twitched slightly as well. And Hermione felt how her joy had, somehow, rubbed off on him.

  


  
'We better get going,' Tom said.

  


  
He stood up and stretched out his hand towards her. She accepted it, and the force of the jolt took them both by surprise. They had to grab a hold of each other or they would have toppled over. They stood still for some time, before either of them dared to move a muscle. Finally, Tom spoke up. 'I don't know whom I allowed to brew that potion, but remind me to have the moron killed when the time comes. It is obviously not working properly.'

  


  
'Oh, and what was it supposed to do?' Hermione asked, remembering she had not got an answer to that question yet.

  


  
She was still somewhat concerned about it, even though she felt nothing out of the ordinary. Hermione had been certain when she drank it that the potion was a significant health risk. The way it had felt when it burned inside of her told her that much. Tom paled a bit further due to her question, and he did not answer her question nor looked her in the eye. He pulled her wand out of his pocket and handed it back to her, along with her beaded bag. Hermione did not push the matter further. She was now certain the potion had been unhealthy, maybe even lethal, and somehow, it had not worked properly. But why?

  


  
Tom, silently, twirled her around and grabbed a hold of her waist, but as he activated Eternity in Time he said something rather peculiar to Hermione. 'I'm glad it didn't work properly,' he whispered in her ear. 'I would have missed your annoying, bossy demeanour a lot.'

  


  
A dash of silvery light; a crash; a beaded bag fell down; a book flew through the air, and there she was, crouched on the floor again, while emptying her stomach.

  


  
'Hermione!' Harry and Ron shouted in unison.

  


  
They both dove down and hugged their friend senseless. Hermione Jean Granger had, finally, returned back to 1997. She was back with her beloved friends, and she arrived a mere three hours later, after she had left Harry. Though, for her, it had been months ago.  
  
---


	20. Chapter 20

---  
  
**Masters of manipulation**

  


  
**Chapter twenty**

  


  
Another crack and they almost toppled over as the dragon rammed a way through the passage into the marble hallway. Goblins and wizards shrieked and ran for cover. The dragon went for the metal doors…

  


  
'I trust this is Salazar's book I am feeling underneath this shirt,' Riddle said to Hermione in a calm, serene manner, like he was riding the train to Hogwarts.

  


  
And she knew what would happen next…

  


  
'Hold on to Ron!' she shouted at Harry.

  


  
Hermione let go of Ron's arm the moment the dragon entered Diagon Alley and spread its wings to fly off into the sky. She heard the familiar hissing sounds coming from behind her. She heard Ron screaming her name. But a dash of bright silver light surrounded Tom Riddle and Hermione Granger, and a second later they were gone, back on their way to 1945, as Riddle had intended.

  


  
Crack! Flash! Bang!

  


  
And they smashed inside the corridor at Hogwarts. Hermione grabbed her beaded bag, pulled two more vials of Invigoration Draught out of there and quickly drank hers, while Riddle swallowed his. She looked around. They were back from where they came. She noticed Riddle was looking rather smugly at the blue-bronze book in his hands. He was holding Mind over Matter from Rowena Ravenclaw! Hermione stared at it in astonishment.

  


  
'How did you get a hold of that?'

  


  
She snatched the book out of his hands and started flipping through the blank pages.

  


  
'Nicked it,' Tom answered triumphantly. 'Right out from underneath that champion of commoners, of Mud…' and he halted mid-sentence when he looked at Hermione, who was glaring at him from behind the book.

  


  
'Well, I took your example and snatched the book from the Dumbledore family vault. My counterpart told me it might be there. Ever since Grindelwald told us that the book stayed with its owner and that only the owner could give it away…' and Tom eyed Hermione suspiciously.

  


  
'And Gellert said something else of interest,' said Tom softly. 'He said that you would have had help from Dumbledore in order to get to the book at Durmstrang. So my older self figured if dearest Albus helped you back then, he would certainly make sure you would get the book after he became owner of it. And I was right, the parcel addressed to you was right there in the vault. Dumbledore gave the book to you and by doing so he broke the bind that existed between the book and Rowena's wand. I've got to admit though I was expecting you to be a bit quicker on arriving at Gringotts as well, but I'm glad you made it eventually, even if you did bring those two idiots with you along for the ride. You know, for a while I thought I was going to be stuck in there for eternity, since Dumbledore made certain the book could not be moved if you weren't in the vicinity of it. However, our Blood Bond seemed to do the trick. I guess you forgot to mention that detail to the love-mumbling fool of a wizard.'

  


  
Hermione stared at Riddle in confusion. What was he going on about? She could not remember any conversation between them and Grindelwald about Rowena's book and what was that bit about Rowena's wand? Did he mean the Elder Wand? Did he just overlook the entire Hallows' quest? And did he really think she had come to Gringotts, because of the book? Riddle was staring at her, noticing her confusion. And Hermione realised she had to be quick, before he would put the link between his Horcruxes and her arrival at Gringotts and hide the damn cup elsewhere. She picked the one thing that could set him at ease about her confusion.

  


  
'What conversation with Grindelwald are you talking about?' Hermione asked. She was keeping her fingers crossed that this would work.

  


  
'Oh, I forgot you weren't there. Well, you were, but not you… Ahh… whatever…,' Riddle said, frustrated with the temporal changes.

  


  
'So you had an interesting conversation with Grindelwald, before you found it necessary to use Eternity in Time again,' Hermione said, and she made sure to sound slightly irritated, which wasn't a problem, because she was actually feeling slightly irritated about it.

  


  
'A very interesting conversation, Granger, so would you care to inform me about your allegiance with our wonderful Transfiguration Professor,' and he spat out the last three words with venom.

  


  
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. 'And why is my involvement with Professor Dumbledore such a surprise to you, Riddle?' she said softly, but she didn't wait for a reply. 'I mean why wouldn't I be in allegiance with him? It's not like we are friends or anything else remotely like it. I'm a Mudblood after all. You despise everything I am and stand for. And I can assure you the feeling is quite mutual. Magic is Might, pffftt…' she spat, and she was building up steam.

  


  
Hermione had been back in 1997 and getting tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange had been a good reminder for her of what Riddle was going to do with his life. Something she had been pushing to the side the week they had spent together in that tent on the Durmstrang terrain.

  


  
'Do you really think I've forgotten about everything you did or are going to do? That disgusting statue in the ministry, those poor Muggle-borns you allowed Umbridge, Umbridge of all people, to play judge and jury about,' she fumed. And her temper rose, when she remembered how that toad-face had sat there, how much Umbridge had enjoyed herself looking at innocent people's misery.

  


  
'Let's face it Riddle. The only reason you and I are even talking is because we're stuck with each other due to these books. And don't think I don't realise that the very moment that dependency vanishes, you're going to try to get rid of me and my oh so despicable blood line. If you haven't already tried to do just that, because I'm confident that was no health potion you gave me, mister. Now, I suggest we get this all over and done with. We still have a week of vacation time, before everyone returns back to Hogwarts. So we read those damn books thoroughly and we don't stop, until we've finished meeting every requirement of that blasted Unbreakable Vow we took. That way we can finally stop seeing each other altogether and pretend to like the other.'

  


  
Riddle plainly watched her as she ranted on. Hermione was so ferocious that she did not pick up on any of his emotions and feelings at the moment, and his typical blank expression, after everything she had just said, pissed her off even further. So she did not wait for his response, but snatched Salazar's work out of his hands, dumped it in her beaded bag along with Rowena's book, and turned to go to the Room of Requirement. She took one step when she remembered something else. Furiously, she swirled around and she threateningly said, while poking him in the chest with her index finger: 'And if you ever, EVER lay one hand on Ron again, I swear that no freaking prophecy will stop me from killing you myself.'

  


  
And she turned to walk away again, but he grabbed a hold of her arms from behind and menacingly said: 'My turn, Granger.'

  


  
At the end of the corridor, a couple of books hovered by and they were followed by a very, tiny wizard. Tom and Hermione stood frozen still, until the man had disappeared from sight.

  


  
'Oh no,' Hermione said, concerned. 'That was Professor Flitwick. We're still in 1997.'

  


  
'That's not possible,' Tom said, but he didn't sound as convincing as he normally would have. 'I specifically told the book to take us back to January first of 1945.'

  


  
'Well, maybe you mispronounced or made some other error as usual, because that was Flitwick, and I don't remember him being around in 1945,' Hermione said sarcastically.

  


  
'I don't make errors like that, Granger,' Tom replied haughtily.

  


  
'Yeah, you're infallible, I forgot,' Hermione sneered.

  


  
'I'm telling you, there is something not right with the book, it's not working properly,' Tom stated certain.

  


  
'So, now the book is to blame. Dear me, it couldn't possibly be your own faulty ways,' she mocked and rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

  


  
'Wait up! Remus!' The shouts came from across the corner.

  


  
'Dissendium,' Tom whispered, while Hermione turned to watch the corner. Tom pulled her by her collar into the secret passageway behind the statue.

  


  
Hermione looked at him questioningly.

  


  
'If I recall your reaction correctly, then this castle is taken over by me in 1997, so I think it would be prudent if you're not found here. I have no idea if my other self is even in the vicinity to help us out in...,' Tom stated calmly, but he got interrupted by Hermione shushing him, when she heard the familiar voice come from the corridor.

  


  
'Sirius, I really don't have time for those pranks of yours right now. I have to finish my Potions essay and it is not my best subject. You know that,' Remus Lupin replied to his best friend.

  


  
'Come on, Moony, it will only take a few minutes. I have a great idea to get back at Snivellus. You really don't want to miss it,' Sirius mischievously said.

  


  
A sigh sounded, which Hermione deduced must have come from Lupin. Riddle began whispering in her ear. 'Shh…' she shushed angrily, and she placed her finger at his mouth in support of her shushing statement.

  


  
Riddle shrugged his shoulders.

  


  
'There you all are,' a joyous, male voice said.

  


  
Hermione did not recognise this one, so she peeked through the crack in the wall and saw a spitting image of Harry, except for the eyes.

  


  
'Have you heard the good news, Padfoot?' James Potter said happily.

  


  
'What is it, Prongs?' Sirius asked. 'Don't tell me Evans, finally, accepted your pleas to go out with you. It is getting a bit embarrassing, you know.' And he snorted.

  


  
'Ah, go chase your tail,' James replied. 'Now, I might not tell you the news about old Snivelly after all.'

  


  
'Is it … good news?' Sirius asked, positively delighted at the prospect.

  


  
'Well, not for grease-face, it isn't,' James snickered. 'I saw Slughorn pass with his body. His face looked horrific.'

  


  
'It always looks horrific, Prongs. Tell me something I don't already know,' Sirius replied, grinning.

  


  
'Apparently, he was working in the dungeons on some potion when his cauldron blew up in his face and he got hit with a full load of undiluted Bubotuber pus in the face. You should have seen what he looked like,' and James guffawed.

  


  
'It could only have been an improvement,' Sirius snorted, before he roared with laughter also.

  


  
Hermione noticed Remus wasn't laughing and she wondered who on earth Snivellus was, if Sirius and James were having so much fun at his expense. Getting hit by pure Bubotuber pus wasn't exactly harmless. It caused some nasty painful boils to rise on the skin it was placed in contact with, so…

  


  
'YOU!' a girl shouted upset. 'Potter, what did you do to him?'

  


  
Hermione peeked sideways to check who else had arrived at the scene. A girl with thick, shoulder length, dark red hair and Harry's eyes moved into her eyesight. Hermione was looking at Lily Evans, who was watching Harry's father furiously.

  


  
'What have you done to his cauldron!' she demanded to know, and her hands were placed firmly in her sides.

  


  
'Whoa…, back up Prongs,' Sirius said proudly, 'you didn't say you were the one who blew up his cauldron.'

  


  
Hermione noticed James wasn't too pleased that Sirius found it necessary to share this information around the current company. Lily pulled out her wand and started poking James in the chest with it.

  


  
'You leave Severus alone, you hear me,' she said outraged. 'You big, arrogant bully.'

  


  
'I will if you go out with me,' James said quickly. 'I swear,' and he held up his hand, 'I will never, ever blow up any of Sniv – Snape's cauldrons again if you will accompany me to Hogsmeade Saturday.' And he eyed her hopefully.

  


  
'You disgust me, James Potter. You attack someone and then expect that I will go out with you as a reward or something? Besides, I can't. I'm already going with someone else,' she haughtily stated, and as Lily turned to leave, she kindly said goodbye to Remus, who stuttered something incomprehensible back.

  


  
'Well, you lucked out there,' Sirius said briskly, and he slapped James on his shoulder.

  


  
But James wasn't paying attention to him. 'Evans! Evans! Who are you going with, then?' James asked.

  


  
Lily turned and smiled triumphantly, and Hermione's jaw dropped when she heard Harry's mother answer that she was going to Hogsmeade with Severus Snape.

  


  
James Potter crumbled up the piece of parchment he held in his hand, and Sirius gave him an understanding glance, before he told him deviously: 'I have an excellent idea that can make those boils a more permanent feature on Snivellus' face. That is, if you're interested?'

  


  
James was definitely interested, and the three Marauders abandoned the third floor corridor.

  


  
Hermione was still in shock when she got pushed in the side. 'Now, can I say something? I mean, I so understand why you wanted to hear everything of that mindless conversation we just had to eavesdrop on,' Riddle said sarcastically.

  


  
'We're in the wrong period of Time, but why did we come to the Seventies?' Hermione said, puzzled.

  


  
'The Seventies?' Riddle said, surprised. 'I thought you said that was your Professor Flitwick.'

  


  
Hermione replied: 'He is my Charms Professor, but he has been teaching for ages. I just didn't realise…'

  


  
'…that he was looking a bit younger,' Riddle sneeringly finished her sentence.

  


  
'Yes, well, he hasn't changed much, and it was not like I had a whole lot of time to examine his features,' Hermione said cross. 'Besides, you were the one who messed up our transportation Riddle, so there is no need for you to be sneering at me.'

  


  
'What!' Hermione added, annoyed when Riddle's only reply to her statements was merely stretching out his hand towards her.

  


  
'The book, Granger,' he demanded, 'so I can get us out of here.'

  


  
'And take us Merlin knows where. I don't think so,' Hermione said bossily.

  


  
'We cannot stay here and I believe you are very well aware of that,' Riddle replied dominant.

  


  
Hermione grinned at him. 'Whether I am in the Forties or the Seventies doesn't really matter to _me_ , Tom. And what makes you think _you_ can get us back to your day and age anyway?'

  


  
He took a menacing step in her direction and his wand was at her throat. 'Hand me the book, Hermione,' Tom quietly spoke, while pressing his wand into her skin to back up the unspoken threat.

  


  
'Riddle, we need to read that book entirely before we use it again. We need to understand why those anomalies keep occurring first,' Hermione stated roughly.

  


  
He seemed to hesitate in his resolve to hex her, and she quickly added: 'You know I'm right. We could end up in any given Time if we don't find out the reason behind this flaw.'

  


  
Tom sighed. 'There is nothing written down in Eternity in Time that explains the problems we've been experiencing, Granger. So hand me the book.'

  


  
'How would you know? We haven't reached chap…' and she stopped in the middle of her sentence and stared at his blank, emotionless features. However, inside of her she experienced quite a lot of smugness at the moment. And now she knew why he sometimes had such a hard time recollecting where Salazar had written down certain, specific parts of the text.

  


  
'You've already finished reading the entire book, haven't you?'

  


  
He smirked. 'What can I say, guilty as charged. I probably could have read it ten times by now. It's not my fault you're such a slow reader, Granger.'

  


  
'There is nothing wrong with being thorough, Riddle. Maybe if you would have read it a bit slower, or reread it those ten times you claim you could have, then maybe, just maybe, you would have found the thing you've obviously read over, because you were in such a hurry to finish the book,' Hermione snarled. She felt troubled that he had finished reading it already, but she handed him the book just the same.

  


  
He lowered his wand upon receiving it. 'I think all our problems may be connected somehow,' Tom said thoughtfully. 'Just out of curiosity, before we started travelling in Time what were you thinking of?'

  


  
'Why?' Hermione asked suspiciously.

  


  
'Do you have to reply with a question every time I ask you one?' Tom replied tiresome. 'I'm trying to determine why we got stuck here, Granger. And I'm beginning to think our Blood Bond might somehow be involved in this.'

  


  
'How do you recon?' she asked thoughtfully.

  


  
'Because those times that our transpo… Granger, that time at the Astronomy Tower, when I tried to go to 1981, what was on your mind when you jumped in my arms?' Tom said, excited.

  


  
Hermione stared at his excitement and the revelation unfurled before her eyes as well. 'I was determined to go with you! You think we are stuck here, because I was thinking about Ron and Harry in 1997 and your mind was on returning to 1945.'

  


  
'And we got stuck somewhere in between,' Riddle said satisfied. 'It explains everything.'

  


  
'No, it doesn't,' Hermione, suddenly, said disappointed. 'I was thinking we were returning to 1945 when you sent us to 1997 to get Ravenclaw's book out of Gringotts. And I'm certain that when we left 1981, I might have wanted to go to 1944, but I think you were pretty determined on staying there, so you could kill Harry. So why did the Time Travel go smoothly then?'

  


  
Riddle's satisfied expression had faltered during her speech. He was in deep thought again. 'Because I did not initiate those transports!' he shouted. 'My older version did… I must have overlooked something.'

  


  
And he started skimming the pages of Eternity in Time again, not noticing the sudden pleased expression on Hermione Granger.

  


  
'So you admit this is your entire fault, and that it might have been better to read the book slow and thoroughly, instead of rushing through it,' she mocked victoriously.

  


  
Tom did not respond to her victory, but hissed at the book. He closed it up, flung his arms around her and pulled her close. 'I had more important things to attend to during our meetings than read that book, Granger,' he said smirking.

  


  
'Obviously not,' Hermione said evenly, but she was rather shocked by this announcement.

  


  
Could this be how he was always one step ahead of her? Had he been going through her mind during those meetings all along? She had not noticed it, but she was occupied with Godric's book at the time. It would certainly explain how he knew all those things he wasn't suppose to find out about. And she realised Minerva had been right that she had not wanted to tell her everything. Hermione kept her face in a blank expression, while she told Riddle she really didn't care what he wasted his time on, when he should have been getting thoroughly informed about Salazar's writings.

  


  
But he laughed in her face. 'Nice try, Hermione, but even though I might not be able to read your mind anymore due to some incomprehensible reason, I can still feel all you feel. I am experiencing your emotions, and they betray you even more than your thoughts did.'

  


  
'You wouldn't know how to value true feelings and emotions, Riddle. And I doubt you're able to assess them correctly. It's not like you understand any of it,' Hermione stated boldly.

  


  
'Don't I, really?' Tom said, amused. 'Think Hogwarts, Room of Requirement, December 25th 1944.'

  


  
'Who says I want to go there?' Hermione teasingly replied.

  


  
'I do,' Tom said certain.

  


  
Another hiss, a silvery dash, and they were on their way again. And when they arrived in the Room of Requirement, Tom told the Room immediately they were in need of knowing the date. A calendar appeared on the wall and a circle was drawn around the 25th of December 1944. Tom looked very pleased at Hermione, and his expression turned incredibly smug when he spoke his next sentences. 'See, I was right. You do love being around me, Granger, admit it.'

  


  
But Hermione ignored his remarks and questioned his choice in date to come back to. 'Why did you pick the 25th? Now, there are two of us here. Time does not appreciate that, you know.'

  


  
'You'd rather explain to every nosey professor where we have been?' Tom retorted. 'Besides, the Durmstrang wards should protect us from running into ourselves.'

  


  
'But you're coming back here to pick up the books,' Hermione said questionably.

  


  
She agreed with Riddle that not having to explain where and when they had been was preferable, but she did not like the risk they took with it. She remembered very clearly the couple of close calls she had with temporal corrections during her Time-Turner days.

  


  
'And I know exactly when I'll be doing that. Besides, I took the passageway towards the Chamber of Secrets from the Forbidden Forest. I never set a single foot inside Hogwarts. All we need to do to avoid any mishaps is make sure we have Eternity in Time with us at all times, at least, until January the first. After that, we're in the clear,' Riddle replied calmly.

  


  
'But that means we have to stay together the entire time for eight days,' Hermione said shocked.

  


  
Riddle smirked. 'If you're having such a big problem with being around me, Hermione, then why are you still in my arms right now?' he teasingly asked her.

  


  
Hermione's first instinct after that remark was to push him away, but quickly something else came to mind. And she gave him a naughty smile, wrapped her arms around his neck, moved forward and got a rewarded by an alarmed expression on his face, before Riddle pushed her away himself. Hermione roared with laughter upon noticing he had even drawn his wand.

  


  
'One more attempt at that, Granger, and you won't live to regret it,' he menacingly said.

  


  
'What's the matter,' she asked in between laughter, 'afraid you'll pass out again if you experience some genuine emotions?'

  


  
'I have no problems with real emotions, Granger. I just don't need you trying to control me. Now, let me make some things absolutely clear to you. This is what we're going to do the upcoming eight days…'

  


* * *

  


  
Tom and Hermione had outfitted the Room of Requirement for their eight day stay. It had become quite a comfortable place to be in, because they had both slept in a cramped up tent for more than a week. So they had sort of gone overboard on all kinds of luxuries they, suddenly, found necessary for survival. There were huge couches in the room and the soft cushions swallowed you whole if you sat in them. Hermione had deemed that a water-bed was an absolutely necessity to sleep in, and after Tom had tried out her bed he seemed to agree, because his bed quickly changed into one as well.

  


  
Tom had designed an extra-ordinary large bathroom and had insisted that Hermione would use it first, since he claimed she was in desperate need of removing some of that odour that hung around her. Hermione had merely replied by telling him that his smell would never change, while she would be fine once she was through using that ointment of his.

  


  
And he had quirked an eyebrow at Hermione for creating numerous machines to make all sorts of coffee. She did not want to have to do without any type of blend she was in the mood for, and Tom had a lot of fun at her expense because of that. Unfortunately for him, Hermione had caught Tom using said machines after a mere hour, so he had no other choice but to stop teasing her about it.

  


  
The most important feature of the Room that Tom had created was a protective temporal shield. It made sure the one inside was safe from Time Corrections, which meant that only the person who left the Room had to hold on to Salazar's book. This enabled them to go places individually, since it might have become rather noticeable to the few people, who remained in Hogwarts, if they went everywhere together. Tom had left first, and Hermione was just getting comfortable, when he stormed back in, grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of there.

  


  
'Riddle!' Hermione said outraged with his behaviour. 'What is going on? Let go of my arm.'

  


  
'You've got to see this,' Riddle replied, alarmed, and he dragged her down the staircase.

  


  
'Oh no, now what?' Hermione said, exasperated. 'If we have created a wedding chapel, then I'm leaving the premises immediately.'

  


  
'No, it's something much worse,' Riddle said, ignoring her pun, and he pulled her into the library. 'Look.'

  


  
Hermione looked around cautiously. She was worried something bad had happened to her favourite Hogwarts' area, but she saw nothing out of the ordinary. All there was to be seen were shelves filled with books.

  


  
'Good for you, Riddle,' she mocked. 'And the correct answer to your question is … yes, a library is used by people to store and read books.' And she patted him on his shoulder condescendingly. 'I'm glad it is no longer a foreign concept to you,' she added teasingly.

  


  
He rolled his eyes to the ceiling. 'Look at the Restricted Section, Granger. Don't tell me you're not missing anything?' he replied disbelievingly.

  


  
It was when she noticed it. 'The Founders' Section! The door is missing.'

  


  
'No, not just the door; it is worse,' Riddle told her. 'When I first came in, Olive Hornsby was still here, and she thought I'd gone mental when I asked her about the Section of the Founders. Apparently, it has never existed.'

  


  
'But…,' Hermione did not finish. She rubbed through her hair in frustration. 'I told you that Ballroom appeared because of us, because of our Time Travelling. And did that stop you from using that blasted book again? Noooo, you thought, let's see if I can mess up everything else, while I am at it.'

  


  
'You would rather be dead now, Granger?' Tom sneeringly asked, 'because I can certainly remember that for future references.'

  


  
'I thought I might find you both in the library, even though the vacation has started,' Professor Dumbledore said cheerfully.

  


  
He was wearing Hermione's Reindeer Head Hat, which made Tom jump several steps backwards, while Dumbledore looked joyous at the two Slytherins before him. His expression changed swiftly, and his eyes darted between them curiously.

  


  
'Did I interrupt something?' Dumbledore asked sharply.

  


  
It was, quickly, denied by the two people involved in the previous argument. Dumbledore eyed them for a moment and then sighed. 'I believe Headmaster Dippet would appreciate it if you two could also make it to the Great Hall for the Christmas Dinner.'

  


  
Hermione looked at the clock on the library wall. 'Dinner?' she said weakly.

  


  
She just ate an hour ago. Due to all that travelling around, her insight in Time had got pretty mixed up. And Tom didn't exactly seem like he looked forward to the prospect of an elaborate dinner either. They shared a mutual glance of understanding between them, before following Dumbledore to the Great Hall. It was as Hermione remembered it from her third year. A single table stood in the centre of the Great Hall and all the remaining students and teachers sat at it. It wasn't crowded in this day and age. There were twelve students that stayed over at Hogwarts and five teachers. Hermione realised why Tom had thought coming back at the 25th might be a better idea as to arriving at the first of January. Their absence would have been duly noted.

  


  
Hermione sat down next to Tom and looked around. It was when she got the second shock of the day. She nudged Tom in the side with her elbow and he gave her a slightly annoyed look in return. She pointed towards the wall with her head and watched how he turned paler than before as he too noticed the door to the Ballroom had vanished. It was not something they could discuss with Dumbledore sitting across the table from them, but they shared another meaningful glance between each other before turning their attention back towards their plates. After dinner they silently made their way back to the Room of Requirement. Hermione sat down at the couch before the fireplace, but Tom started pacing the Room. Eventually, his pacing worked on Hermione's nerves.

  


  
'Could you sit down? Those doors won't return due to your pacing,' she spoke irritably.

  


  
He flopped down next to her in the couch. 'I spoke with Olive Hornsby again during dinner. I believe she is now utterly convinced I've completely lost my marbles, because I asked her about the annual Christmas Ball. And guess what?' Tom asked Hermione irritably.

  


  
'Hogwarts doesn't have an annual Dance,' Hermione said tiresome. You would have to be a complete dolt not to see that one coming a mile away.

  


  
'Apparently, you're right. Hogwarts, indeed, doesn't hold annual dances,' Tom repeated, shaking his head. 'And there also was no Dance this year according to Hornsby. So where the hell we went to…?' And he threw his arms in the air in confusion, before landing them onto the back of the couch.

  


  
'I'm beginning to understand why Salazar Slytherin turned into such a nutcase,' Hermione stated. 'If I would have to deal with stuff like this on my own, I would have thought I'd gone mad, and with his ego, he probably thought the rest of the world had lost it.'

  


  
Hermione turned her head towards Tom. 'Are you sure there isn't anything in Eternity in Time that can explain these events?'

  


  
'Oh, believe me, Hermione,' Tom said, exhausted. 'If somewhere down the line Slytherin would have written down something about appearing and disappearing ballrooms, then I think I would have remembered.'

  


  
'There must be an explanation for these events. It cannot be a coincidence that these changes occur right after we've travelled through Time once more,' Hermione stated thoughtfully. 'Surely, Slytherin must have noticed these things as well.'

  


  
She turned to face Tom and pulled her legs onto the couch to make herself more comfortable. Her left side was now leaning against the back of the couch. Her head was supported by her left hand, whose arm was resting on the back of the couch, and she folded her legs up underneath her.

  


  
Tom frowned, and shook his head. 'Maybe,' he said doubtfully. 'But it's like you said, if you would have gone through this on your own, would you have told anyone about it? People won't believe what you say. They'll think you've gone mental. If Salazar even noticed something was off, then he sure as hell didn't write it down, because I can't recall a single reference to situations like these.'

  


  
'Maybe he didn't even consider it was due to his Time Travel that things changed,' Hermione added. 'I mean he wrote down the theory. We've been rather careful with travelling, because we weren't sure on how it was done. But if he did it a lot, then it must have got messy real fast. And the changes we've seen were all rooms that were altered.'

  


  
'So he might not have even made the connection between Time and Space,' Tom added, and he nodded. 'That would make sense, and it explains why there are no references to any changes either. … What?' he asked upon seeing Hermione stare at him.

  


  
'Space,' Hermione said, flabbergasted. 'You said the connection between Time and Space!' and she grabbed a hold of his shoulder and shook it excitedly. 'That's it!'

  


  
She pulled out her wand: 'Accio Infinity in Space!'

  


  
She started flipping the pages while muttering: 'If you fool around in one dimension, you can inadvertently affect another too. It's like tossing a stone into a pond and slowly seeing every bit of the surface enter into the motion of the wave you've created. In Time the Space changes. A ripple-effect, I'm certain Godric Gryffindor wrote down something about cause-and-effect in creating new Spaces. Ah, here it is.'

  


  
And she started reading silently. Eventually, she looked up, thoughtful. And she shook her head. 'I don't get it. I need to read the rest.'

  


  
And she hopped backwards into the cushions, placed her feet on the living room table and started reading, until she heard the snickers come from beside her. Disturbed, she looked up.

  


  
'What's so funny, Riddle? Never seen anyone read before?'

  


  
'I was just remembering a certain someone who spoke of the benefits of slow and thorough reading not so very long ago,' he said snorting. 'It seems that there is something to be said about speed after all.'

  


  
Hermione shrugged her shoulders and continued reading, but after a while Riddle's staring began to bother her. 'Don't you have something better to do?' she muttered from behind her book.

  


  
'No, not really,' he replied, amused. 'I'm finished with mine, remember.'

  


  
'Yes, I remember, but you don't seem to remember what it is about, so maybe you should try rereading it, maybe then something will stick,' Hermione boldly suggested, and she flipped to the next page.

  


  
However, her little suggestion did not do the trick and she could feel his eyes, while she was reading. The glee, that he was emanating, was so humongous it overtook any emotion she felt herself. Their bond made it impossible for them to hide their true feelings from each other, and his feelings, plus the added continuing staring, were sort of distracting her a lot right now. So she looked up from her book and sighed. 'I'm going to read this book tomorrow when my mind is more awake and you have something better to do besides bothering me with this irritating staring you're seem to be keen on doing now. I'm off to bed.'

  


  
She closed the book, got up and went to the bathroom to change, leaving behind a laughing Tom Marvolo Riddle.

  


  
The next morning Hermione was sitting sideways on the huge couch, her back was resting comfortably against a large pillow, her legs were crossed in front of her, the book lay in her lap, and she had a ridiculously large bowl of coffee in her hands. She was reading from Infinity in Space, and she was concentrating on Godric's lines about cause-and-effect in creating Spaces. Her notebook lay beside her, and every now and then, she would scribble down some thoughts or questions that would come to mind. At one point, Riddle nicked her notebook and started reading what she had written down with a deep frown on his face. But Hermione snatched it back, saying that it was private and that he should bugger off, because he was distracting her.

  


  
Tom, calmly, smiled at her, and while he walked past the couch to fetch Salazar's book and leave the Room, his hand teasingly brushed her shoulder and neck. He was very pleased with her sudden compliance. She could feel it. And, suddenly, something, which had not happened before, occurred. His thought hit her mind. 'I've always been able to charm the people I need.'

  


  
The moment the door of the Room of Requirement closed behind his back, Hermione looked up from Godric's book and an equally smug smile became visible on her face. It had taken all her concentration to keep her emotions in check and she felt lucky Riddle was so bloody arrogant that he never even tried checking his assumptions by tuning into her feelings. Hermione held out Infinity in Space and told the book she needed a Space that would warn her if Riddle returned. After the book had provided her with just that, she tossed Godric's writings onto the living room table and pointed her wand at the dresser.

  


  
'Accio Mind over Matter!'

  


  
The moment Ravenclaw's book was in her hands, without Tom Riddle being present at the scene, the book emitted a bronze glow. Hermione really enjoyed her little victory when she opened the book and started to read from the no longer blank pages.

  


  
'Now, let's find out how I can master Eternity in Time,' she said to Rowena's book, which should describe how to manipulate objects according to Helga Hufflepuff's journal. And there was one object that she desperately needed to manipulate. It was Salazar Slytherin's book on Time.  
  
---


	21. Chapter 21

---  
  
**Masters of Manipulation**

  


  
**Chapter twenty-one**

  


  
Hermione read Rowena's writings with incredible speed. Normally, she would have taken her time to absorb in everything the famous Founder had written down, but she knew she had to hurry. She also still had to read a couple of chapters of Godric's book, so she wouldn't draw attention to herself. She was pleased Riddle deemed her to be a slow reader and that she had never shown him she could pick up some speed in reading if necessary. Hermione had a feeling Rowena's subject of interest might hold the key to finding a method of gaining access to Salazar's book, because that was still proving to be a huge problem, despite their fully completed Blood Bond. And she hoped that Rowena might provide her with a method of finding Helga's book, because that one was still nowhere to be found.

  


  
Rowena Ravenclaw described in intricate detail how to create magical objects, but she went beyond the normal theorising of the books Hermione was accustomed to. The power she was able to bestow upon items was amazing. Hermione had been right in her assumption that Rowena had provided the background into creating the four Founders' books. After all, the books themselves were objects with incredible power. It stood to reason that their creation was due to Ravenclaw's theory. The Elder Wand, the Ravenclaw Diadem, and the Sorting Hat, they were all made by Rowena. And Hermione figured it was most likely that the Invisibility Cloak and Resurrection Stone were made by the Founder as well. So Hermione hoped Rowena Ravenclaw would supply her with a solution to her difficulties with the two other Founders' volumes.

  


  
So, for the next couple of days, Hermione varied her time between showing her face outside the Room to the Hogwarts' Staff and reading Godric and Rowena's writings inside the Room. She got really excited when their cause-and-effect theories seemed to overlap, because that meant it was most likely Salazar's subject of interest would have the same qualities. And she began to understand Ravenclaw's method in adding lasting magical attributes to inanimate objects.

  


  
Whenever Riddle came back, Godric's ward warned her, and she quickly closed up Mind over Matter and returned to reading Infinity in Space. Rowena's book seemed to dislike Riddle a lot, because every time he opened the book, the pages had turned blank again. Nothing, he did, made the writings appear. Hermione was very happy with Ravenclaw's protections on the book. It was obvious she had thought about ways to protect her knowledge from Slytherin's Heir.

  


  
However, Hermione had become much more forthcoming with the knowledge inside Infinity in Space, since she knew she needed Riddle's help to solve the mystery and find the answer to their problems with Time and Space. The possibility, that this new information might contain the answer to their Time Travel problems, had also provided Riddle with a solid distraction from the, in his eyes, still blank-paged novel. And they would spend lengthy evenings in debating the similarities between manipulating Time and Space. Something Hermione actually enjoyed doing a lot.

  


  
It kept feeling strange to her, not having to explain everything her mind came up with for a second time, and it was certainly a new experience for her to get feedback in a matter she had not thought of. Though, it did irritate her when she lost track of Riddle's thought process, because he could make gigantic leaps from one subject to the next without losing the underlying issue at hand. And she did not mind one or even two of those leaps, that much she could follow, but he was perfectly fine with making four or five in a row and when he was finished making his, no doubt, excellent point, he would look at her jubilantly, waiting for a reply that would not come. Hermione would just stare at him blankly and slightly annoyed that he did it again, which usually resulted in him snickering and then trying to rekindle everything in smaller steps. Something that always cost him more difficulty to do and when he would complain about that, a smirking Hermione would reply by saying that if he could not repeat it in smaller steps, then perhaps the leap had been too great to begin with. She truly felt that what he would do with his life was an utter waste of an otherwise brilliant mind.

  


  
But Hermione was certain they would find a solution to their Time Issues, eventually, and Riddle seemed to agree, because he was positively delighted twenty-four/seven. His mood was so dominant that it was contagious, and it rubbed off on Hermione. Only she was feeling happy about her abilities to keep her secret activities from him. Something, she was certain, Riddle had not taken into account when he was staring at her with that predatory look in his eyes, while she was reading another chapter of Infinity in Space.

  


  
The only downside to his happy-go-lucky mood was that it turned him bloody touchy, not to mention that his possessiveness of her reached astonishing new heights. Tom would get her everything that she needed and if he had the chance, he even picked out what she should eat. He would, continually, gaze at her with extreme intensity, which was rather uncomfortable, especially since his eyes were always incredibly red whenever he did this. And when he felt like it, he would grab a hold of her and pull her on his lap, holding her in his arms while she read. Or rather, while she tried to read, because the physiological effects, which occurred when they had contact with each other, turned out to be so distracting that she could not concentrate on the sentences at all if he held her. However, since that only slowed down her progress in Godric's book, it was a side-effect she was not unhappy about.

  


  
She knew these increased physical effects were due to the severe strengthening of their Bond, ever since they had "been together". Tom had blamed the flawed potion and the addition Voldemort placed on top of it, but Hermione was certain, due to her earlier contact with his older version, that the strengthening had taken place prior to those events. Although she wasn't sure whether the effects hadn't got worse after that either. Hermione knew a lot more about Blood Bonds than she had been letting on, and she had a sneaking suspicion theirs had become irreversible at Durmstrang, which meant there was now only one method of breaking it and she rather not think about that to often. Especially not in the vicinity of someone so very qualified in performing that two word curse.

  


  
She had counted the number of things they had done after the first bond was placed inside Slytherin's work to strengthen their link, and she was appalled when she realised just how many additions they had placed on top of it. There had been two Blood-Binding Charms, an Unbreakable Vow, a bet, a sex oath, and they had supported the bond by engaging in physical, mental and emotional contact. They had taken over the other by using the Bond as a weapon to overwhelm the other with their own emotions, which created a severe emotional link that was even stronger than the original charm. And they had done all this, while their Bond was also linked with two powerful magical objects that were essential in order to become Master of manipulation.

  


  
There was no way she would ever be able to truly assess the consequences all this would have on her and Riddle, but one thing she knew for certain, she had just as much an effect on him as he had on her. She could see it in all his responses to her. Hermione remembered very clearly what Dumbledore had told Harry about Riddle's emotional state, and this Riddle, that was around her, reacted differently. Sure, their bond did not, suddenly, turn him into Mister Nice. After all, she also did not, suddenly, turn into a murdering fruitcake by feeling his emotions. She remained Hermione Granger as he remained Tom Riddle. And Tom was still very much capable of doing everything he had done before, only now it would leave marks, where previously he wouldn't have cared less.

  


  
And Hermione saw in his reactions that he was from time to time experiencing life the way she felt it. She had recognised it, because she had felt his temper inside of her, the emotionless moments, the hatred, the arrogance, the determination and the emptiness. And she realised that after she had dived into him, he had gone through life dealing with her feelings and emotions, which he previously had been able to suppress to some extend.

  


  
She also wasn't the only one, who had noticed the change in Tom. Dumbledore had always been a shrewd observer and Hermione had seen his blue eyes twinkle slightly whenever they darted between her and Tom during the dinners in the Great Hall. Dumbledore had made no comments whatsoever about it to Tom, but he had winked at her on two occasions. One of those times was when Hermione was certain Tom had another difficult episode, because of her feelings of care towards a first year, who had got hurt.

  


  
So, as much as she had her problems in dealing with his temper and issues; it was nothing, nothing compare to his problems in dealing with her emotions. Tom simply wasn't doing a very good job in handling them. He just wasn't equipped to feel compassion, care, friendship, love… Hermione had noticed the turmoil and the annoyance when those feelings struck him. And she blamed his sudden, extremely controlling attitude towards her on just that. He was losing control of himself and he was grasping at straws to, somehow, regain his hold.

  


  
So Hermione let him be, well, you know, _him_. Though, on a couple of occasions, she had to restrain herself from wringing his obnoxious, arrogant, little neck for trying to subdue her. And she kept telling herself, that some day soon, if he would not get a grip and change this behaviour very quickly, she would find the answer in Rowena's writings, hex his sorry arse, take all three books, hex his no good arse again, before she would transport herself back to 1997 and leave Riddle inside an empty Room of Requirement on his own. Something she was duly beginning to look forward to. She wondered why he wasn't a bit more suspicious of her sudden change in behaviour, but she counted on his arrogance to prevail and was not disappointed. He was totally underestimating her, as his older self had predicted he would.

  


  
On December 29th Hermione had completely finished the theory inside Mind over Matter. She laid the book to the side and began reminiscing on the possibilities it provided. She had a good idea on the device she had to make in order to obtain Helga's book. The problem she still faced was her inability to use Salazar's book. Rowena's writings had made it clear that it wasn't her lacking abilities in Parseltongue that were the cause of her problems. Hermione had been worried that Slytherin's book would only activate to someone, who could speak this language. But, according to Ravenclaw's theory, he would not have been able to make that distinction when he added the Time Travelling magical abilities to his book. The book would respond to any language of the person, who mastered it fully.

  


  
Hermione figured it was probably due to the fact she had not finished the entire theory that she was still unable to activate the book. It was the only answer she could think of, since she was certain their fully completed Blood Bond should enable her to override the protections Slytherin had placed on the pages, or so she hoped. Otherwise she would never be able to use it. Fortunately, Riddle had become very forthcoming in telling her all about Slytherin's theory on Time Travel, ever since he thought he had won her over. And when Lord Voldemort got into one of his talkative moods, it was hard to get even a single word in between. But, for once, that habit came in pretty handy.

  


  
It was during the evening when Tom Riddle was once again incredibly chatty that he, suddenly, said something, which sounded familiar to Hermione.

  


  
'…states that Time is forever changing; its linearity is basically an illusion drawn before human eyes.'

  


  
'What was that?' Hermione said, suddenly, very attentive.

  


  
'Come on, Granger. We discussed this before. If I recall correctly you were the one nagging about how Time was not linear and that …' He stopped talking when he noticed Hermione was waving her hand and shaking her head in disagreement.

  


  
'No, no, not that part. Did you just say Time is forever changing and that it's an illusion? I read something quite similar.' She picked upInfinity in Space and started turning its leaves, searching for the part she knew was there. 'Ah, found it,' said Hermione triumphantly. And she started reading out loud from Godric's book.

  


  
_'The Space we inhabit on a daily basis has some unique qualities. The most important law is that it wants to remain stable. Once a Space has been formed it wants to remain in that form. I call it the Beginning. Any changes to the Beginning lead to the Result. There is always the Balance between Beginning and Result. Now, the Result is not nearly as powerful as the Beginning. Therefore any change made in Space is never infinite. The changes are mere illusions. And they want to return to their prior state. And they do so by eradicating the Result.'_

  


  
Riddle hopped on the couch next to her, took her quill and parchment, and started scribbling. 'So according to Gryffindor the changes are illusions, because anything that you alter wants to return to its original shape,' said Tom. 'And if the Balance of power between Beginning and Result is the cause for these illusions….' he added thoughtfully, while sketching a diagram, 'then, it stems to reason that if you want to make lasting changes, you need to shift the Balance. And not bother with the Beginning or the Result, but shift the force between them.'

  


  
'That's also what Gryffindor states,' Hermione added, excited, and she read the next segment out loud as well.

  


  
_'If one looks at Beginning and Result separately, then their properties are the same, but one is more powerful than the other. The Balance between the two always favours the Beginning. In order to achieve a permanent Result the Balance needs to shift in favour of it. It can be done by fooling the Balance temporarily that the Result is the Beginning. Space becomes Infinite if it is continuously changing, if one makes certain the Balance does not remember what is the Beginning and what is the Result. Then, and only then, can you receive lasting results.'_

  


  
'So if we take the Room of Requirement as an example,' Tom lectured, 'the Beginning being the wall and the Room as its Result. Now, the wall wants to remain, but still the Room becomes what you need, because it has received its infinity due to the constant change. The Balance is still in favour of the wall, but the Room remains too. That means the wall has to be continuously in motion, changing, so the Balance thinks the wall is the Result and wants to recreate its Beginning, the Room…'

  


  
'…which is the Result, so when it does create the Room, the Balance wants the wall back, changing its direction again, becoming infinite in motion. Hence, the Room of Requirement will stay in existence. The illusion is gone and the changes are a reality,' Hermione finished.

  


  
'Exactly,' Tom replied. 'So hypothetically speaking, if Space and Time share the same properties that would mean Time would become eternal if it's continuously changing. When the Balance does not remember what the Beginning is and what is the End,' Tom concluded.

  


  
'And without a clear conception of Beginning and Ending Time would become the illusion Slytherin is referring to,' Hermione added. 'Nothing changes, because it is continuously changing. Time would go back and forth, correcting the errors it perceives. And that's why those rooms came and went. It was Time correcting errors.'

  


  
Hermione was pretty pleased that the mystery was solved. However, Tom was still contemplating on this.

  


  
'So if you want to make lasting changes in Time and you know Time goes back and forth correcting the errors it perceives, then the only way to get a Result that is lasting is by making Time believe it was the Beginning after all,' Tom added, and he leaned backwards in the couch, while a rather smug expression flew across his features. 'You'll have to divert the attention of Time to significant changes in Space in order for it to overlook other minor changes.'

  


  
Hermione's jaw dropped. That was a jump she had not seen coming. 'So you avoid the Temporal Corrections that Time wants to make by altering Space at the same moment as you alter Time!'

  


  
'And that's what we experienced those two times my counterpart send us across Time,' Tom said smiling. 'He changed something in Time permanently, and we only saw the alterations in Space, because they were noticeable to us.'

  


  
'And when Time came by it corrected the major error it perceived the rooms to be, and …' Shocked, Hermione stopped speaking mid-sentence. This was not good.

  


  
'It overlooked whatever it was I needed changing,' Tom stated tremendously pleased, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her towards him.

  


  
A victorious glint ran through his eyes as he claimed her mouth with his and she responded to his demand by opening her mouth and allowing him access. Not only was that action accompanied by the familiar jolt of the bond, but also by a new sensation of surrender inside of her body. An overwhelming urge to please Tom fully began filling her mind, while the core of her sex contracted and she felt the loss of control over every fibre of her being. She moaned inside his mouth as his hands travelled underneath her shirt. She was on fire instantaneously, and her vagina burned with desire and wantonness for the man who was now drawing small circles on her skin. She squirmed in his lap as a result of this excellent attention she was receiving and wanted to turn around to have him take her.

  


  
'No,' Tom ordered, holding her tightly in his lap. 'You gave your body to me, my dear; therefore, you will do exactly what I say when I say it. And right now, I want you to be a good, obedient, little girl and remain lying in my lap while I examine you. Do you understand?'

  


  
'Yes,' Hermione breathe, leaning her head and body back against him.

  


  
'Yes?'

  


  
'Yes, Master.'

  


  
He kissed her neck and she tilted her head to the side to ease his access. 'Good girl,' Tom whispered condescendingly. 'You understand your place now.'

  


  
It shouldn't turn her on as much as it did, but she felt herself go wet at his words; at the control he exhibited over her. His hands and mouth continued to explore her skin teasingly and his touch was making her shiver. Soon, her body grew heated; she perspired and her face flushed in excitement. She twisted and turned, while he drove her on the brink of insanity with his tauntingly slow and meticulously thorough investigation of her reactions to his every move and gesture. A tingling sensation incensed her nerves and she didn't know what to do to relieve the tension that was building up inside of her.

  


  
'Oh Tom,' she moaned when his fingers finally found their way into her knickers and he inserted two of them inside her while his thumb was rubbing her clit. Her fluids were now flowing down his hand rapidly and she felt her clothes sticking to the wetness her body was producing. She needed a release, desperately. A disappointed whimper escaped her lips when Tom's hands suddenly stopped their delicious activities, and he withdrew them and his mouth from her fully ready-to-service-and-incredibly-needy body.

  


  
His breath brushed her ear, as he held his hand in front of her mouth, making her lick his fingers clean one by one. 'You are gorgeous when you surrender to me, Hermione; and I may even give you what you want tonight if you please me enough,' he whispered softly, sending shivers down her spine. 'Now get up and strip for me, doll.'

  


  
Hermione rose from Tom's lap somewhat wobbly, because she felt a bit weak in the knees and her muscles had to readjust to this sudden change of heart and activity. And while she stepped away from him the Room of Requirement altered their surroundings significantly. The table that was blocking her path disappeared and she stood on a small elevation that had a pole centre stage. Music entered her ears and she turned around nervously to see Tom sliding down on the couch lazily with a huge smirk on his face.

  


  
'Let's see what you got, darling,' he ordered.

  


  
Slowly, she complied and undressed at the sound of the beat. Tom's gaze turned quite intense, while she performed before him, using the pole as she had seen in some Muggle movies. During some of the moves she made, Hermione wondered about the effect of the charm Voldemort had placed on her, because she was pretty certain she had never been this agile before. She was also pretty certain Tom hadn't Imperiused her; but yet, that split she made wasn't her idea at all. However, she stopped wondering about the control he had over her, when she saw him shift his position in the couch several times as she moved around the small stage. It gave her an extreme form of satisfaction and power to notice she was affecting him in that way.

  


  
When she was fully unclothed and he felt satisfied at her performance, he beckoned her to come to him. With a mischievous smirk, Hermione strolled towards him in a slow, seductive pace. When she ended up standing before him in all her glory, he told her to kneel. She complied, while keeping her eyes locked with his. Her heart was pounding in her chest as Tom leaned forward and caressed her face and hair gently, while his eyes burned into her very soul. She noted his fingers were entwining themselves in her curls as he massaged her skull, enhancing his grip.

  


  
'Give me a blowjob, doll.'

  


  
His gaze turned heated as she stared lusciously into his eyes, while unbuttoning his trousers slowly in order to release his cock from its confinement. Eh, if he could be a tease, so could she; right?

  


  
Wrong.

  


  
Tom tightened his grip on her hair before yanking her head roughly to his crotch. 'Suck me, witch,' he snarled viciously, the very moment his already aroused member sprang free.

  


  
Hermione, having never done this kind of thing before, felt somewhat unsure of what was expected precisely, but she always had an inquiring mind and it became clear very quickly as she started licking his tip with her tongue, drawing circles around it before taking him a bit into her mouth. He shifted in the couch, and she felt his grip increasing on her head when she started sucking at his length; slowly taking him further and further inside for as far as she could without gagging herself. She felt a surge of vindictive pleasure inside of her when she heard him groan in response to her actions. So, she withdrew and started over again. This time she also massaged his balls with her hands. He jerked underneath her.

  


  
'Yesssss,' he cried out in a low hiss, bucking toward her slightly.

  


  
With a naughty grin, Hermione looked up as she slowly drew her mouth back while sucking at his member fervently. He swore loudly. Her hands stroked him as she had exited him fully with her mouth. Quickly, he forced her head back to its previous position making sure she would continue her delicious activity. 'Make me come, witch.'

  


  
She repeated her previous gestures and he moaned in lust when he was inside her fully and she began moving back and forth up his length with her mouth in a fast pace. Wanting to gain some control back of the situation, he pushed her head down further then she had done on her own volition. He grinned when she gagged. 'Thought you were in charge, my dear?' he hissed, bucking towards her roughly. 'Think again.'

  


  
He moved her head back for a moment so she could take a ragged breath, and then, he made her take all of him again as he spilled himself inside her mouth. Swallowing his nectar in order not to choke on it, Hermione looked up as he let go of her head. Tom's eyes were closed and he had an almost serene, contented expression on his face. He was absolutely stunning and she wanted to jump all over him. So … she did.

  


  
Surprise flew over his features when Hermione landed in his lap – knees on each side of his body –, grabbed his head and started kissing him ferociously. He had thought she would be angry and upset over the treatment he just ditched out on her – like so many other girls had been before her. It had always been a terrific method in getting rid of the clingy ones. Not that he felt Hermione was clingy or that he wanted to get rid of her, he just wanted to show her who was in charge.

  


  
Apparently, that resulted in him now tasting himself on her mouth and getting his clothes ripped off in the process. Oh well, that was fine by him too. Tom used a little Sex Magic in order for his cock to be able to perform again, and he felt himself harden fast at Hermione's feisty actions. So, he grabbed her hips harshly and pulled her down around him. She gasped and flung her head backwards, while holding on to his neck with her arms.

  


  
'Fuck me, witch,' he snarled.

  


  
Hermione took a deep breath and look him straight into his eyes as she began moving up and down his cock, clenching and unclenching her walls, massaging him. Their shared gaze intensified as it quickly became a matter of who would yield first. Tom groaned and clenched his teeth to hold back as Hermione slammed back down around him with a determined look. It made him realise he had to do something or she would win. She was moving back up when he wrapped his arms around her and pushed her back down, shifting his hips to alter the angle he was hitting her with. A victorious smirk became visible when she finally let out a muffled cry in pleasure.

  


  
'Yes dear, why don't you try to hold back now as you fuck me,' he whispered.

  


  
Hermione moved back up and tried to lower herself slowly, so he wouldn't hit her G-spot again, but Tom had been expecting that and he pulled her down while bucking his hips towards her.

  


  
'Ohhhh,' Hermione breathed.

  


  
Their movements became more and more ragged as sweat dropped down their bodies in a futile attempt to cool them down. Hermione bit her lip as Tom attacked her clit with his right hand, while shoving her down around him with his left arm that was resting around her shoulders. She wasn't going to yield. She wasn't. Both Slytherins were now gazing at the other with a resoluteness to win. Their bodies locked in a battle for victory. As Hermione milked his length with her internal muscles, Tom's eyes flashed red. Trickery, little witch! She would yield first. He pulled her head back by her hair and his mouth crashed on the nipple of her breast. Sucking at it fiercely, he sent jolts of ecstasy to Hermione's core.

  


  
'Noooo,' she groaned, 'stop.'

  


  
He attacked her other breast, giving it the same treatment and he felt the unset of her loss of control. But to his frustration, she bit down harshly on her lip, causing blood to flow and the pain made her capable of holding of. So close… he was so close. He looked back up, tilted her head and sucked her blood away from her lips. Licking and battling with her tongue, they engaged in further contact. He removed his right hand from her clit and moved it behind her back, pretending to use it to pull her down on him in hard continuous strokes. Flicking his wrist unnoticeably, his wand appeared. He was close, but he would not lose. He could not lose. Lord Voldemort never loses, especially not from little Mudblood witches.

  


  
As Hermione moved back up and almost exited him completely, he cast the Stimulating Charm upon her and quickly made his wand disappear. Grabbing a hold of her with both hands, he grinned inside her mouth. She would yield now. And he shoved her down violently. Sparks flew through Hermione's body as he entered her fully. She cried out desperate as she felt her body losing control. 'No!'

  


  
'Yessss,' he hissed satisfied when she came, shaking around him, and he filled her with his come. Exhausted, they crashed down on the couch into each other's arms. Hermione was lying with her head on his chest, feeling both defeated and utterly contented. His hand was stroking through her hair gently, while his other arm was wrapped possessively around her waist.

  


  
'Mine,' she heard him utter triumphantly.

  


  
The next morning Hermione began working in secret on creating the device that would track down Love of Mankind. Rowena's writings and something she remembered from Helga's journal had given her an idea on what to make. Helga's journal had said that the four books wanted to be together. 'They, somehow, always ended up in the same room together,' Helga had stated or something quite similar.

  


  
This made Hermione think that if the books wanted to be together, the other three might be able to lead her to the location of Hufflepuff's finest. And she used the theory inside Mind over Matter to create a device that would tell her where to go. She had already taken a blank page out of Gryffindor's and Ravenclaw's, but she still needed a page from Slytherin's as well to make the Tracker active. Only that was a bit more complicated, since Riddle had Eternity in Time with him when he left the Room to avoid temporal mishaps. And he always woke up from the slightest bit of movement in the Room, so nicking a page during the night had proven impossible. And she could not do it when she left the Room with Eternity in Time underneath her shirt, because she needed the power of Ravenclaw's book to separate the page.

  


  
So on December 31st, Hermione and Riddle reached the day that their Unbreakable Vow would be fulfilled and the entire contents of both books were shared. Hermione was beginning to dread the end of that day. After all, the moment Riddle gained access to the entire theory inside Infinity in Space would also be the moment he would master that volume fully. She had provided him with complete access to the book's capabilities and there would be no way she could stop him from using it. Godric did not have Salazar's attitude towards others.

  


  
Godric's ward went off. Hermione placed down Rowena's writings back on the dresser and, quickly, disposed of her nearly finished Tracker. She hopped on the couch and opened Infinity in Space just in a nick of time, because Riddle was already stepping through the door. He was looking rather dishevelled. The mood he was emanating was dreadful and his clothes had mud, twigs and leaves all over them.

  


  
'What happened to you?' asked Hermione, frowning.

  


  
'Oh, nothing important,' Tom said dismissively.

  


  
He tossed Salazar's book on the living room table and walked into the bathroom. Hermione watched him go suspiciously. She had been so busy with keeping her own activities a secret that she had never concerned herself with what Riddle was doing all the time when he wasn't inside the Room of Requirement. And now she was regretting that oversight on her part sincerely. He was definitely up to something.

  


  
Hermione's eyes darted between the bathroom and Salazar's book. Could she risk doing it now? She heard the shower start and decided she was never going to get a better opportunity.

  


  
'Accio Mind over Matter,' she said.

  


  
Hermione held out Rowena's book in her hands right above Eternity in Time. She cast one more apprehensive glance in the direction of the bathroom. She kept her fingers crossed for luck and activated Mind over Matter.

  


  
'I need a page from Eternity in Time. I need a page that won't be missed. I need it in order to track down Love of Mankind,' Hermione whispered to the book.

  


  
A dash of bronze lighted up the Room of Requirement. Hermione threw an anxious glance towards the bathroom door. Mind over Matter started glowing intensely, and the leaves started turning, until they reached their predestined page. Hermione held out the book towards the other one. A beam of bronze hit the silver-and-green volume. For a moment nothing seemed to happen, but then, Eternity in Time opened up. Its leaves started turning, until the final page was reached. Another dash of bronze hit the page in question, and it separated itself from the others without a trace. The blank parchment flew through the air and landed on top of the living room table. Hermione sighed relieved. Riddle hadn't noticed a thing. Quickly, she pointed her wand at the parchment and cast a spell to hide it in her beaded bag. Everything had worked like a charm.

  


  
The bronze glow stopped, and at that very moment a beam of silver struck right into the heart of Ravenclaw's book. The force of the beam threw Rowena's writings out of her hands and it tossed Hermione through the air. She flew over the couch and crashed straight into the wardrobe. The bathroom door flew open and Riddle stood in the doorway with his wand raised. The noise had, obviously, alerted him something was happening. Tom's eyes, quickly, scanned the situation in front of him. He saw how a ruffled Hermione scrambled back onto her feet, while Mind over Matter was embedded in a beam of silver, hovering in midair.

  


  
Another flash and a bronze beam trashed the silvery one. Eternity in Time got struck. It flew up into the air. Two flashes occurred simultaneously. One bronze and one silver beam were aimed at each other. They collided and were diverted. Tom dove out of the path of the diverted bronze beam that headed directly towards him, and it blew up the bathroom instead. The silvery beam hit the dresser on the side causing it to explode into a million pieces.

  


  
Everything was quiet. Then, Salazar's book opened and two beams left it almost simultaneously. One headed directly for Ravenclaw's book, which defended itself perfectly without any effort, but the other one hurtled with tremendous speed towards Hermione. She did not have time to react, before it crashed straight into her, crushed her ribcage and tossed her across the room once more. As she plummeted to the ground, she heard and saw several things happen.

  


  
'Hermione!' Tom shouted fearfully, because his Shield Charm reached her a mere millisecond too late.

  


  
Mind over Matter hurtled another beam of bronze at Eternity in Time, and Slytherin's book exploded in midair with all the force it could muster due to the attack of Ravenclaw's. The sheer strength of the explosion took the blue-bronze book down with it. And while the bits and pieces of the pages from the two books dispersed itself into the air across the Room of Requirement, a male voice laughed loudly.

  


  
_'With the elimination of Helga's pawn the path is free for my Heir to rule as Master of manipulation and cleans the world of all those unworthy of existence.'_

  


  
It was the last thing Hermione heard before she saw her life flash by before her very eyes.

  


  
She was back in Bill and Fleur's cottage. Hermione discussed how she felt about Tom Riddle with Harry and told him the more intimate details of their relationship after Ron had gone to bed. Harry seemed deeply concerned for her safety, and he told her to be careful, to remember who she was dealing with, and to keep in mind how he had manipulated Ginny into doing his bidding ... She and Ron looked at each other in clear understanding; they had been expecting this reaction from Harry upon hearing Mad Eye's plan was to have others impersonate him … Ron was holding her, stroking her hair, while she sobbed on his shoulder at Dumbledore's funeral ... She Confunded McLaggen when he was standing right in front of where she was sitting, so Ron could get the Seeker's position ... She was explaining to Harry why all those people were, all of the sudden, interested in him and she told him it did not do any damage that he had grown about a foot over the summer. Ron inconsequentially told her that he was tall … She and Ron were in the hospital wing after the fiasco in the Department of Mystification … She exchanged a look with Ron when Harry was shouting after arriving at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place … She was having a blazing row with Ron.

  


  
'Well, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?' yelled Hermione.

  


  
'Oh yeah?' yelled Ron back. 'What's that?'

  


  
'Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does and not as a last resort!'

  


  
_'Hermione!'_

  


  
'You – you're – , fraternising with the enemy, that's what you're doing!' Ron shouted at the Yule Ball …

  


  
_'Hermione! Hermione!'_

  


  
Someone was shaking her rather persistently. It was kind of annoying. She really needed to sleep. She was too tired.

  


  
_'Oh no, you don't,'_ a determined, male voice spoke.

  


  
It sounded quite familiar, but it was nice and peaceful out here, and she really, really needed some shut-eye. It had been a busy day after all.

  


  
_'Don't you dare leave me, Granger,'_ that same voice hissed.

  


  
A flash and a tremendous pain soared through her.

  


  
And Sirius Black hopped onto Buckbeak behind her … She was arguing with Ron over Crookshanks and Scabbers … She was riding the train to Hogwarts. Professor Lupin was holding a handful of flames as the door slid open and the cloaked, hooded creature entered. It drew a long, slow, rattling breath and an intense cold swept over her ... A pair of big yellow eyes … And she ladled large dollops of the Potion into each of the glasses and added Millicent Bulstrode's hair to her own … She was crying in the girl's toilets after overhearing Ron tell Harry that no one could stand her … She opened the compartment door of the train and a red-haired boy had his wand raised. 'Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then.'

  


  
_'Granger!'_

  


  
'Stop shaking me … need to sleep … I'm tired,' Hermione muttered.

  


  
Another flash and her bones seemed to have caught fire.

  


  
'Granger, Hermione,' said Professor McGonagall. And she ran to the stool and put the hat eagerly on her head. 'Gryffindor!' shouted the hat immediately … She was jumping up and down excitedly across her parents' living room. The stern witch in the emerald robes, who had come to tell her parents their daughter was accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was watching her with keen eyes behind a pair of square glasses, and she had a big, endearing smile on her face.

  


  
_'Hermione, open your eyes!'_

  


  
'Go away,' she whispered in a daze.

  


  
A third flash and she heard chanting like a song.

  


  
'You might belong in Gryffindor,  
  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
  
Their daring, nerve and chivalry  
  
Set Gryffindors apart.'

  


  
'I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?' she said very fast.

  


  
'I'm Ron Weasley,' Ron muttered.

  


  
'Harry Potter,' said Harry.

  


  
'Are you really?' said Hermione. 'I know all about you, of course…'

  


  
_'I need a Space to undo this. I need a Space to save her. I need a Place where she is to stay alive.'_

  


  
And Hermione drew out her last breath on December 31st 1944, when a dash of gold lighted up the Room of Requirement.

  


  
She lay in a strange, bright mist. The cloudy vapour had not yet formed all her surroundings and she sat up. Her body appeared unscathed. She stood up and looked around, and the longer she looked, the more became visible. A great, domed glass roof glittered high above her in the sunlight. She was in a Hall of some kind.

  


  
'Hermione.'

  


  
She turned and saw Albus Dumbledore approach her. He was wearing robes of midnight blue and he was a lot older than the last time she saw him.

  


  
'Let us sit down,' said Dumbledore.

  


  
And she, suddenly, noticed the chairs that she had not seen previously. They sat down and Hermione stared questioningly at her professor. His long beard and hair had regained their silvery colour instead of the auburn she had grown accustomed to in 1944. He appeared as she remembered him from just before he died.

  


  
'Are you dead?' asked Hermione.

  


  
'Oh, yes,' said Dumbledore matter-of-factly.

  


  
'Then … I'm dead too?'

  


  
'Ah,' said Dumbledore, smiling more broadly. 'That's the question, isn't it? On the whole, dear girl, I think not.'

  


  
He was beaming at her when he said this.

  


  
'Not?' repeated Hermione.

  


  
'Not,' said Dumbledore.

  


  
'But … then … how? I got struck by that beam of Eternity in Time. I am supposed to be dead, aren't I?' Hermione asked.

  


  
'That was Salazar's plan, I believe, to eliminate the other one right before all four books could be found,' replied Dumbledore, smiling.

  


  
He seemed utterly pleased. Hermione had never seen him this content in her entire life before.

  


  
'Then, how can I be alive?' Hermione asked uncertain.

  


  
'I think you know,' said Dumbledore. 'Think back. Remember all that happened.'

  


  
'The Blood-Binding Charm! Eternity in Time could not kill me, because my blood lingers on its pages!'

  


  
'Precisely,' said Dumbledore. 'Tom tethered you to life while he lives! And as long as that Blood Bond remains you can not be killed by him or his ancestor's book. I don't think Salazar had ever taken into account that his Heir would bind himself to his adversary through so many means as Tom has done with you.'

  


  
Hermione got a bit uncomfortable about where the conversation was heading and she was shifting in her seat. It hadn't been just Riddle, after all, who had done all the bonding. She was guilty of a few of them herself. Dumbledore was eyeing her happily. And she changed the subject.

  


  
'Voldemort has changed Time twice,' she said softly.

  


  
Dumbledore merely hoisted his shoulders. Hermione eyed him rather shocked. Surely, that statement deserved a bit more reaction than a shrug.

  


  
'I would not worry about that too much, Hermione. Tom is only trying to prevent the inevitable,' said Dumbledore.

  


  
Upon noticing her confusion, he added: 'You know probably more about Time than I do right now. You understand I can't take the risk of possibly damaging the time-line by informing you what he has done. All I can say is that his efforts will be in vain. Time will correct the error.'

  


  
Hermione felt a bit more reassured after that.

  


  
'There's more,' she said. 'You practically told me that Rowena's book was at Durmstrang, but you had not given me the amulet, yet. And without it I could have never got in. How did you know?'

  


  
'You showed me the future, Hermione. On the first day we met in 1944. So I knew I'd given you the Deathly Hallows book and I knew it contained the amulet. I realised I must have had a good reason to give you The Tale of Beedle the Bard, so I hinted to you about Durmstrang. And later, when the Elder Wand became mine and with it Mind over Matter I made certain that the book would go to you too, even if it meant allowing Tom Riddle to be able to retrieve it from my families' vault. Only the owner can designate, who the book should go to, and you were the true Master of that book to begin with,' Dumbledore explained, smiling.

  


  
'But not anymore,' Hermione said thoughtfully. 'Salazar Slytherin said something right before I was supposed to die. He said the path to all four books was open for his Heir to become Master of manipulation.'

  


  
Dumbledore nodded. 'I believe you're right in that assumption. Tom Riddle will be able to read, activate and Master all four books now.'

  


  
'And I still can't activate Eternity in Time. I'm not going to win this, am I?'

  


  
Dumbledore looked at her meaningful. 'I believe you will find a way,' he said, and he gave her a reassuring wink.

  


  
It annoyed the crap out of her. So they were back doing the riddle business again, but Dumbledore spoke up before she could voice her resentment.

  


  
'What you must understand, Hermione, is that Tom Riddle might run into a few problems with Hufflepuff's volume as well. Love is a power he does not value or understands. You have a great advantage in that area over him.'

  


  
'But he feels it now,' Hermione said in a small voice. 'I have ruined everything, haven't I?'

  


  
'I doubt that very much,' Dumbledore said kindly. 'Tom feels those emotions through his bond with you. They are not his own, Hermione, remember that. It is essential that you keep that in mind.'

  


  
'I have to go back, haven't I?'

  


  
'That is up to you.'

  


  
'I have a choice?'

  


  
'Oh yes,' Dumbledore said. 'Where do you think we are?'

  


  
Hermione looked around. 'Well, it looks a lot like King's Cross station,' she said hesitantly.

  


  
'King's Cross station!' Dumbledore was chuckling immoderately. 'I can tell you and Harry have been friends for a long time.'

  


  
Hermione frowned. What kind of a remark was that?

  


  
'So you also think this is King's Cross station. Well, then, I suppose if you decided not to go back, you would be able to board a train.'

  


  
'And where would it take me?'

  


  
'On,' said Dumbledore calmly.

  


  
It became silent.

  


  
'If I move on…' Hermione started, and she paused a moment before finishing her sentence, 'Riddle will get the four books.'

  


  
'Yes,' said Dumbledore quietly.

  


  
And he looked at her, when she made a decision and got out of her chair. Dumbledore did the same. She smiled at him. 'Has this been real? Or has this been happening inside my head?'

  


  
'Of course it is happening inside your head, Hermione, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?'

  


  
And she heard him laugh loudly about something, while his figure alongside the rest of the station disappeared into the strange mist again.

  


  
Hermione opened her eyes and stared straight into a pair of dark ones. Tom was looking at her and relief spread throughout all his features.

  


  
'You're alive,' he whispered hoarsely.

  


  
And he placed Gryffindor's book next to him. The golden glow was diminishing softly as he picked her up and held her in his arms. From the corner of her eye, Hermione saw something glowing in a bright yellowish colour. And she did not know why she did it, but she stretched out her hand and snatched the piece of parchment with the black rim out of the air, just before it stopped glowing and was about to vanish. She turned it and read: _'Chapter 25. How to Reverse the Dynamic State of Death.'_

  


  
Hermione frowned and looked up, but Tom wasn't paying attention to the piece of parchment in her hand. He was still watching her, like he couldn't believe his eyes.

  


  
'I thought I lost you,' Tom whispered. 'You weren't breathing anymore.'

  


  
And he held her close in his arms, like he never wanted to let go, ever again. Hermione lifted up her hand and touched his face. She felt his feelings and emotions inside of her. And it was the first time he wasn't running away from them. He wasn't annoyed or upset with himself about how he felt. But Hermione's eyes really widened when he spoke the next three words.

  


  
'I love you.'

  


  
A dash of yellow-and-black flew across Hogwarts. It embedded everything in its path. And the very fabric of Time shook on its foundations the moment Tom Marvolo Riddle truly felt love for the first time in his life. Beyond the veil a yellow-leather book with black letters and a black badger on the cover started glowing. It was summoning all the missing pages back into its binding. And a plump figured woman with gingery red hair saw with shock in her blue eyes how a few moments later the most dangerous book of all time vanished to return back among the living. And Love of Mankind entered real Time and Space again, waiting to be found by its true Master.

  


  
'No,' Helga Hufflepuff whispered and she shook her head in fright.

  


  
'It has begun. The end is near,' Rowena Ravenclaw replied matter-of-factly.

  


  
'I love you,' Tom had said.

  


  
_…But he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…_

  


  
And Time spiralled out of control, when Harry James Potter lost his one advantage over the Dark Lord.

  


  
'You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?'

  


  
_'You dare –'_

  


  
'Yes, I dare,' said Harry, 'I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?'

  


  
'NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!' Mrs. Weasley threw off her cloak as she ran, freeing her arms.

  


  
'Look … at … me …' he whispered.

  


  
The green eyes found the black, but after a second something in the depths of the dark pair seemed to vanish, leaving them fixed, blank and empty.

  


  
'I have a problem, Severus,' said Voldemort softly.

  


  
'My Lord?' said Snape.

  


  
Voldemort raised the Elder Wand, holding it as delicately and precisely as a conductor's baton. 'Why doesn't it work for me, Severus?'

  


  
'You realise, of course, that nothing we do will be able to keep out You-Know-Who indefinitely?' squeaked Flitwick.

  


  
'But we can hold him up,' said Professor Sprout.

  


  
'Thank you, Pomona,' said Professor McGonagall, and between the two witches there passed a look of grim understanding.

  


  
'You-Know-Who's strategy of remaining in the shadows is creating a nice little climate of panic.'

  


  
'And the rumours he keeps being sighted abroad?' asked Lee.

  


  
'Well, who wouldn't want a nice, little holiday after all the hard work he's been putting in?' asked Fred. 'Maybe he is, maybe he isn't, but the fact remains he can move faster than Severus Snape confronted with shampoo when he wants to, so …'

  


  
He felt Voldemort before he saw him. Looking sideways, he stared into the red eyes and was sure they would be the last thing he ever saw: Voldemort preparing to curse him once more –

  


  
'Well, that's that plan scuppered,' said George. 'Obviously there's no chance at all of us getting a bit of your hair unless you cooperate.'

  


  
'Yeah, thirteen of us against one bloke who's not allowed to use magic; we've got no chance,' said Fred.

  


  
'Funny,' said Harry. 'Really amusing.'

  


  
Dumbledore opened his eyes. Snape looked horrified. 'You've kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment?'

  


  
'Don't be shocked, Severus. How many men and women have you watched die?'

  


  
'Lately, only those whom I could not save,' said Snape. He stood up. 'You have used me.'

  


  
'Would you like me to do it now?' asked Snape, his voice heavy with irony. 'Or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?'

  


  
'Kill me now, Dumbledore …'

  


  
Blinded and dying, every part of him screaming for release, Harry felt the creature use him again …

  


  
'If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy …'

  


  
'Listen to me, reliving family history …' Voldemort said quietly. 'Why, I am growing quite sentimental … But look, Harry! My true family returns …'

  


  
'The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more terrible than ever before. Tonight … before midnight … the servant … will set out … to rejoin … his master …'

  


  
'Voldemort,' said Riddle softly, 'is my past, present and future, Harry Potter …'

  


  
'Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain.'

  


  
'NEVER!'

  


  
'Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!

  


  
'Stand aside, you silly girl … stand aside, now …'

  


  
'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches … '

  


  
Voldemort sneered. 'If you do not want to give me a job – '

  


  
'Of course I don't,' said Dumbledore. 'And I don't think for a moment you expected me to.'

  


  
'I'd be glad to see anything Miss Hepzibah shows me,' said Voldemort quietly, and Hepzibah gave another girlish giggle.

  


  
'I had Hokey bring it out for me … Hokey, where are you? I want to show Mr Riddle our finest treasure … in fact, bring both, while you're at it …'

  


  
_…But he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…_

  


  
As Time spiralled out of control, when due to Love of Mankind events were reset in motion, the participants had yet to become aware of this.  
  
---


	22. Chapter 22

---  
  
**Masters of manipulation**

  


  
' _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have trice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives …the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies …'_

  


  
**Chapter twenty-two**

  


  
'I love you.'

  


  
Hermione practically crumpled the piece of parchment she still held in her hand in shock, when she heard the three words come out of the mouth of the most unlikely source ever. She didn't know what to say and how to react. Her heart made a somersault and every part of her physical being wanted her to respond affirmatively to him. This truly was a dangerous moment. Sure, she had feelings for Tom. She was attracted to him and that, no doubt, brilliant mind of his. She adored arguing with him. She cared for him, but love? She knew what that felt like and she just wasn't certain.

  


  
'I don't know what to say,' Hermione hesitantly whispered.

  


  
Her cheeks flushed out of embarrassment. Tom stared at her intensely.

  


  
'I don't know how I feel,' she continued honestly. 'Everything is so mixed up due to our Bond. I don't know anything anymore.'

  


  
He kissed her, very softly this time. Hermione closed her eyes and responded. She wrapped her arms around him. Tom deepened the kiss. She _so_ wanted to be with him as their bond made her heart jump out of joy due to their physical contact. But Dumbledore's words nagged in the back of her mind.

  


  
' _Tom feels those emotions through his bond with you. They are not his own, Hermione, remember that. It is essential that you keep that in mind.'_

  


  
And she pushed him away.

  


  
'We can't do this,' said Hermione softly, and she shook her head. 'We just can't. We don't know how we really feel.'

  


  
And she looked Tom straight in his eyes. He merely gazed at her, before he caressed her hair and kissed her on the forehead.

  


  
'I can wait,' he stated calmly. 'You will always be mine, Hermione. The sooner you realise that the better it will be for everybody involved.'

  


  
He helped her up and they looked around the Room of Requirement. It had changed into a yellow-and-black study chamber. The Hufflepuff Banner on the wall and the humongous, stuffed badger on the desk were a dead giveaway to whom this chamber had once belonged. Hermione looked around puzzled. What had happened? The last thing she had seen in this Room was the destruction of two Founders' volumes, but they were both lying on the ground a few feet away from them. She looked at Riddle questioningly.

  


  
'What did you do?' she asked curiously.

  


  
He pointed to Godric Gryffindor's book on the ground.

  


  
'I asked that book for a place where you would be all right,' Tom stated casually. 'And it took us here.'

  


  
Hermione looked at the chamber. Would Helga's book be here somewhere? She saw Tom was thinking the same thing, and they both started searching the place but came up empty-handed. Hermione tried a Summoning Charm without conviction and, as she expected, nothing happened. She pulled the crumpled parchment out of her pocket and looked at the other three volumes on the ground. Tom watched her as she ironed it out to check the contents. They read the first page. It dealt with life and death, and the different shapes and forms it beheld.

  


  
'This is a page from Helga Hufflepuff's book,' Hermione said thoughtfully.

  


  
'So it would seem,' agreed Tom. 'It was glowing before you came to life again.'

  


  
And he looked at her meaningfully. A brief flash of greed darted visibly through his eyes, but then, it was gone again. Hermione eyed the parchment suspiciously. It could not have been responsible for her survival. The Blood Bond made certain she could not be killed by Salazar's book. So why had it been glowing? What had it done to them? She remembered very clearly Helga Hufflepuff's area of expertise was controlling human beings. Had that parchment been around them before? Was that why they had sometimes lost control and done things against their own nature? Was it the reason for their mind losing moments?

  


  
Tom was watching the room again. 'Maybe we shouldn't be looking for a book, but for pieces of parchment,' he added thoughtfully.

  


  
They searched the place again, but the only piece of parchment, they eventually held onto, was the one Hermione had snatched out of the sky, before it could vanish. Hermione looked from the three other Founders' books to the piece of parchment in her hand. If she added this to her Tracker, she should be able to locate Love of Mankind easily. But how could she possibly get rid of Riddle? And where was her beaded bag? It contained the rest of her Tracker after all.

  


  
'Are we still in the Room of Requirement or did Infinity in Space take us elsewhere?' she asked Riddle, while she pocketed the parchment again.

  


  
'We did not move,' he replied.

  


  
'So our stuff…,' she said cautiously, 'is in some other shape or form of this very Room. I need my bag.'

  


  
'Why?' Riddle asked suspiciously.

  


  
Hermione shrugged her shoulders. 'I just do, Riddle. There is no need to snap at…'

  


  
But her final word got overpowered by a different voice that echoed throughout the castle. It was high, cold, clear and seemed to emanate from the walls themselves.

  


  
'I know that you are preparing to fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood. Give me Harry Potter, and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight.'

  


  
Hermione's eardrums whistled after Lord Voldemort's voice had silenced and she stared at Riddle in fury. She picked up Eternity in Time from the ground and poked him in the chest with it.

  


  
'You've used this damn book again!' she hissed. 'Are you so desperate for Time to get a hold of us?'

  


  
Tom looked at her in utter confusion and held up his palms in denial. 'I have not touched that book once since it resurfaced after exploding. I've only used Gryffindor's. What could I possibly gain by travelling through time and coming over to Merlin knows when, Granger?'

  


  
She pushed Slytherin's book in his hands, but she calmed down a bit after she felt his confusion inside of her. He wasn't lying.

  


  
'Just get us back from when we came, Riddle,' Hermione bossily ordered, 'pronto.'

  


  
And she collected Mind over Matter and Infinity in Space from the ground, while Tom was hissing something to Salazar's book. Riddle held on to Eternity in Time and was watching her suspiciously, while she came back towards him holding on to both volumes. Hermione stopped right in front of him, but he merely stared at her.

  


  
'What?' Hermione asked, confused.

  


  
He took a hold of her before answering. 'Nothing.'

  


  
Tom hissed at the book. A short, silvery burst and everything appeared the same as before. They looked around in confusion. Was that all? Had they really travelled through Time? It surely did not feel like the other times.

  


  
'How do we know if…' But Hermione did not finish that sentence, and she told the Room of Requirement she needed to know the exact time and date.

  


  
It was 31st of December 1944 at ten o'clock in the evening. She wanted to walk away, but Riddle kept his arms around her and was eyeing her suspiciously. 'Why did you want to leave, Hermione? Why did you not try to find out exactly when we were? That sounded a lot like your day and age to me.'

  


  
'I don't remember hearing you shout like some maniac towards a castle,' Hermione answered indignantly. 'Besides, we have unfinished business to attend to.'

  


  
He let go of her, so Hermione turned around and walked towards the exit.

  


  
'Where are you going, Granger?' Tom asked sharply.

  


  
'Out,' she replied briskly, and she turned to face him with the two volumes in her arm. 'I already told you I need my stuff and there is nothing here anyway.'

  


  
'And why do you have this sudden desire to leave a room that obviously belonged to Helga Hufflepuff? It's the best lead we've got and we might not be able to return here once we leave. Or is there something you're not telling me?'

  


  
Hermione weighted her options. He was already suspicious of her motives. And she needed to use the magical force inside Ravenclaw's volume to finish the Tracker. She also needed the piece of parchment from Helga to make it more effective. Tom was never, ever going to let those two objects out of his sight; now that he could read and master them. Besides, he had found out everything else that she had tried to keep hidden from him, and she had this strong sense of urgency flowing through her, like this could not wait any longer, like she had little time.

  


  
'I know a way to find Love of Mankind, but I need my bag to finish the device,' she eventually said, hoping it was the right choice.

  


  
'Love of mankind?' Riddle questioned, frowning.

  


  
'Helga's book,' added Hermione, upon realising he did not know the title to the volume.

  


  
A red gleam shortly became visible in Riddle's eyes, and Hermione felt his fury for a second, but he restraint himself quickly. 'I see,' he said shortly.

  


  
They left Hufflepuff's chamber silently. After the door closed behind them and disappeared into the wall, Hermione started passing it trice. The door resurfaced and they entered the Room of Requirement in the state they had last seen it in, namely in shambles. Suddenly, everything changed and was whole again. Hermione was surprised, until she saw Riddle's nonchalance at the change and she realised he probably had asked the Room to mend the furniture non-verbally.

  


  
He tossed Eternity in Time on the table and picked up her beaded bag. Hermione dumped the two other volumes beside it and held out her hand. Tom handed her the bag. But the moment she had taken a hold of it; he grabbed her by her wrist and violently spun her around, until she clashed into him with her back. Before she had time to respond or do anything in defence, his wand was pressed against her throat and his other arm was holding her tightly around her waist. His hand was locked around her wrist like a wrench.

  


  
'You wouldn't be planning to betray me, now would you?' Tom quietly whispered in her ear.

  


  
She closed her eyes when he followed the lines of her neck with his wand to underline the threat. Hermione knew he could not kill her due to their Bond, but there were way too many other, also not so delightful, options still at his disposal.

  


  
'You really don't want me to explain to you just how much loyalty means to me, Hermione. It would be unwise of you to forget who you truly belong with. I never relinquish what's mine; never. Do I make myself clear?'

  


  
Frightened, Hermione nodded slightly. Oh, he sure as hell made himself clear. It was crystal clear, probably more than he had counted on. Tom had no idea how much damage he did to his own cause, when he let go of Hermione after that. But his little show and tell made her resolve to stop him no matter what grow bigger than before, while she started to work on finishing the Tracker.

  


  
Now, Helga had stated that the books seemed to want to be together. Unfortunately for Hermione, this was not the case with the four pages. Three of them had no problem with being together. But every time Hermione tried to add Salazar's page, one of the others took offence and somehow managed to escape from the device to end up back on the table. And there was also the problem with getting Salazar's page to even go near the other three. Every time she tried to get that page inside the compass-like device, it would glow and push her hand in the other direction.

  


  
After an hour of tweaking, fiddling and tinkering with the protesting pieces of parchment, Hermione was about to give up altogether. She sat down and took a huge sip of the coffee Riddle had provided for her. She picked up Mind over Matter with a deep sigh and started rereading certain paragraphs of it. Maybe she had overlooked something? There must be a way to get those damn pieces of parchment into the Tracker.

  


  
Briefly, Hermione glanced at Tom, who had lounged himself comfortably in the other couch and was twirling his wand around absentmindedly. He had been twirling his wand around for the entire hour, while she was working on the Tracker, and Hermione did not like the fact that he kept it out in the open and visible one bit. Especially, since she had noticed the brief glances he had tossed in her direction.

  


  
She had read the entire chapter again when she came to the conclusion, she had done everything right. There was no other way to finish this. Those obnoxious pages simply had to be placed inside of it; but how? She sighed again and scratched her head, when she noticed Riddle was staring at her.

  


  
'Can I help you with something?' she sarcastically stated to his relaxed and lazy posture.

  


  
'I was just about to ask you the same thing, Hermione,' he replied blankly, 'you always scratch on your head when you run into a problem and don't know what to do next.'

  


  
She scratched her head again out of habit, and he merely grinned. 'Hand me the book.'

  


  
Abruptly, Hermione folded her arms over each other. If he wanted to order someone around, he'd better go fetch one of his mindless minions. She was so through pretending.

  


  
'There is nothing in here that explains why I can't get those pages in there, Tom, so there really is no point in reading it.'

  


  
'That's what you think,' said Tom, and he shrugged his shoulders. 'Maybe you've missed something.'

  


  
Hermione frowned. 'I don't miss things when I'm reading,' she stated with Riddle's arrogance.

  


  
'We'll see about that,' he said smiling. 'Accio Mind over Matter!' And the book flew in Tom's hands. He started reading the chapter, which Hermione had been going through, vigorously.

  


  
'Fine,' she said snappishly.

  


  
Hermione leaned over backwards into the pillows of the couch and took on the same lazy posture Riddle had found necessary to flaunt at her. She considered also twirling her wand around but decided against it, because she would, no doubt, let it drop and look like an idiot for doing so. After a while he put down the book, pulled out his wand, and started working on the device. Hermione lazily watched this and pretended not to care one bit whether or not he would succeed, but behind his back she was so hoping every page would make a run for it. She was not disappointed. At one point it looked like he had done it and he gave her one of his extremely smug, triumphant expressions; only to be laughed at loudly by Hermione when all the pages reappeared back on the table, three on one side of the Tracker and one on the other.

  


  
To Hermione's utter amusement, he too scratched his head and watched the unfinished device and the pages puzzled. 'It's supposed to work,' Tom muttered.

  


  
'That's what I said,' Hermione stated triumphantly, and she stuck her nose up in the air.

  


  
Tom glared at her, like he really wanted to wring her neck, and the pages moved a bit further apart. 'Did you see that?' Tom said, shocked.

  


  
And he looked back at Hermione, who had sat up and was watching the pages with interest. 'You don't think that…' she said questionably, and she shook her head. 'No way.'

  


  
'Do something annoying,' Tom demanded.

  


  
Hermione felt a burst of anger rise up inside of her. 'From the two of us, you tell me I am the annoying one, Riddle; _me_? How about you take a good look in the mirror and then…' But she halted her tirade and groaned when the pages moved further apart.

  


  
'HA!' yelled Tom victoriously, 'that's it.'

  


  
Hermione jumped to her feet and watched the pieces of parchment with a murderous look in her eyes. She had enough of these Founders and their manipulations. If she ever was going to run into one of them after her death, they'd better start begging for mercy, because she was planning to get even with them really, really badly.

  


  
'I can't believe it. I'm not going to be manipulated by some stupid piece of paper,' Hermione said angrily.

  


  
It remained silent in the room after her statement. Hermione was thinking: 'to blazes with that Tracker and any other dreadful glowing item.' She scooped up the four pages with one hand and the unfinished device with the other, when Riddle took a hold of her hand that held on to the four pages.

  


  
'Just hold on to the pages,' he said thoughtfully, 'it might just do the trick if we do this together.'

  


  
And he moved her hand that held on to the four pages towards the device. Hermione planted the Tracker down on the table and they placed the pages in there together. Riddle pulled out her hand, and simultaneously, they jammed the lit shut. And held it shut with their hands as if that would prevent the headstrong parchments from escaping again. They both watched the Tracker with anxious eyes, but nothing happened.

  


  
'Did it work?' Hermione softly questioned; almost afraid that if she said it out loud, the four pages would escape from the confinement of the small box.

  


  
'It looks that way,' Tom responded equally quiet.

  


  
They reluctantly removed their hands and watched the tiny white box anxious, but nothing exploded and the pages remained in their confined space. They sighed simultaneously, which caused them both to snort at the same time.

  


  
'I never thought four pieces of parchment could be this much trouble,' Tom said grinning.

  


  
'I'd never thought I'd ever say this; but the day, that I don't have to see a single piece of parchment related to any Founder ever again, will not come soon enough,' Hermione added forcefully.

  


  
'I couldn't agree more.' Tom snorted, and his next statement proved to Hermione he was thinking the same thing as her. 'It seems we have to work together in order to get Hufflepuff's book.'

  


  
'So it would seem,' said Hermione. 'So it would seem.'

  


  
Hermione picked up Mind over Matter and added the magical power to the Tracker. It became active immediately. The needle on the compass started spinning and stopped in a specific direction. A location and a date appeared on the little blackboard on the top of the box.

  


  
_Ravenclaw Tower Staircase in between sixth and sev_ _enth floor; May 1_ _st_ _1998, 10:15 p.m._

  


  
Tom picked up Eternity in Time, while Hermione grabbed her beaded bag and pulled out two vials of Invigoration Draught. They both emptied a vial, even though their latest Time Travel had not made them sick. 'Better safe than sorry,' Hermione thought.

  


  
She looked at the two other Founders' volumes and moved towards them.

  


  
'What are you doing?' Riddle asked when she walked away from him.

  


  
'I'm not leaving those here unsupervised, Riddle,' Hermione answered, and she dumped both volumes in her beaded bag.

  


  
'I believe they will be quite safe here, Granger.'

  


  
'I'm sure you believe they will be quite safe here; but I'm not leaving those books behind, so you can return here with Salazar's and Helga's and leave me stranded in 1998. I need some insurance, Riddle,' Hermione snapped at him.

  


  
And she reached out to pick up the Tracker as well, but Tom grabbed a hold of it before she could reach it.

  


  
'Fine,' Tom responded equally snappish, 'you hold on to those two books, and I'll take Salazar's and this Tracker of yours.'

  


  
Hermione was not at all happy with this arrangement, but it was obvious from the look in his eyes that it was nonnegotiable. He pocketed the Tracker before hissing without drawing in breath towards Eternity in Time.

  


  
'Are you coming, Granger?' Tom asked smirking, and he held out his hand.

  


  
Hermione took a hold of him. Another hiss, a dash of silver, and they got thrown straight into the Ravenclaw Common Room. As Hermione and Tom scrambled back onto their feet, footsteps hurried away from the scene and a series of loud bangs came from the other side of the Common Room door. The door did not buckle though. And Hermione heard a male voice shout.

  


  
'Alecto! If he comes, and we haven't got Potter – d'you want to go the same way as the Malfoys? Answer me!'

  


  
Hermione looked around and saw that Tom was watching a witch, who was lying on the floor unconsciously. Hermione frowned and checked the room again. She did not know that her eyes darted over Harry and Luna underneath the Invisibility Cloak. Harry had been stopping Luna from shouting towards Hermione by holding his hand over her mouth and shaking his head, since Tom Riddle was standing there as well.

  


  
'May I ask what you are doing, Professor Carrow?' The familiar voice of Minerva McGonagall came from the other side of the door.

  


  
'Trying – to get – through this damned – door!' shouted Carrow.

  


  
Hermione and Tom looked at each other, while Professor McGonagall argued with Professor Carrow on the other side of the door.

  


  
'How come we ended up here? Weren't we supposed to land in the staircase?' Hermione asked Riddle, puzzled.

  


  
'The real question is how are we going to get there? Our pathway is obviously blocked by those two bickering idiots out there,' said Riddle, annoyed.

  


  
'Don't call Minerva an idiot,' said Hermione angrily.

  


  
'Fine, one bickering idiot,' Riddle replied, hoisting his shoulders. 'I wonder what happened here. I doubt she stunned herself.'

  


  
The door swung open and Amycus burst over the threshold, brandishing his wand. He yelled out of fury and fear upon spotting his sister sprawled motionless on the floor. 'What have you two done?' he screamed at Hermione and Tom, but he did not wait for a response.

  


  
'Oh, what's the Dark Lord going to say? Amycus shrieked, standing over his sister and smacking himself on the forehead with his fist. 'We haven't got him, and they've gorn and killed her.'

  


  
'She's only stunned,' said Professor McGonagall, watching Hermione and Tom with surprise written all over her face. 'I'm sure your sister will be fine.'

  


  
'No she bludgering well won't!' bellowed Amycus. 'Not after the Dark Lord gets a hold of her! She sent for him and he thinks we've got Potter! And that…!' he pointed towards Tom with his wand, 'is not Potter!'

  


  
Hermione snorted, and she was certain that the corners of Professor McGonagall's mouth twitched upwards for a second when Minerva replied to Amycus: 'No, I think it is safe to assume that is not Potter.'

  


  
Hermione took another stealthy glance around the room. Would Harry be here underneath his cloak? She really hoped he would have the restraint to stay hidden, otherwise Voldemort would know Harry would come here, due to Riddle seeing him.

  


  
'We can push it off on the kids,' said Amycus, crafty. 'Yeah, that's what we'll do. We'll say Alecto was ambushed by those two over there,' and Amycus Carrow looked towards Tom and Hermione, 'and we'll say they forced her to press her Mark, and that's why he got a false alarm … he can punish them.'

  


  
Tom merely raised an eyebrow. 'I doubt your Occlumency skills will be sufficient enough,' he said coldly.

  


  
However, instead of paying attention to his master's words, Amycus was staring at Hermione, and suddenly, a dawn of recognition flew across his face.

  


  
'That's Potter's Mudblood!'

  


  
He raised his wand at Hermione.

  


  
'No!' shouted Minerva, and she grabbed a hold of his arm; sparks flew off his wand as Amycus spun round.

  


  
Swiftly, Tom drew his wand and lazily said: 'Crucio.'

  


  
The Death Eater flew through the air, screaming and writhing in pain, until he smashed into the bookcase and dropped to the floor just as unconscious as his sister. Tom paced towards the Common Room door.

  


  
'McGonagall,' he acknowledged and he nodded towards Minerva, who obviously was holding back the urge to draw her wand. 'Are you coming, Hermione?' Tom ordered, and he paced out of the room without waiting for her response.

  


  
Hermione sighed tiresomely. 'Sorry 'bout this,' she said to Minerva, waving her hand at the two unconscious Death Eaters.

  


  
But Minerva was staring at Hermione's bloodstained blouse and her face had turned pale at the sight of it. Hermione looked down upon seeing the worried look of Professor McGonagall. 'Oh, that's nothing,' she stated reassuringly. 'I merely had an argument with a book, but I'm fine now.'

  


  
Tom's head reappeared around the corner. 'Granger,' he said, irritated, 'I told you to come.'

  


  
And he disappeared again without waiting for a reply. Hermione growled and made a wringing motion with her hands, pretending Riddle's neck was in between them. She looked backwards in doubt. If Harry was here, then she really needed to talk to him. But she couldn't let Riddle see him, and she needed to be there if Riddle found Love of Mankind. So to McGonagall's utter confusion, Hermione waved hesitantly to the seemingly empty room and stepped through the door to follow Tom down the spiral staircase.

  


  
The book wasn't there. And what was even worse, the Tracker did not give them a new location. The needle on the compass was randomly spinning around.

  


  
'This thing isn't working,' said Tom.

  


  
'It should,' Hermione said questionably, looking around. 'It said the book was here.'

  


  
'Maybe someone moved it,' replied Tom. 'Or it moved on its own. We're wasting our time here.'

  


  
Tom grabbed a hold of Hermione and before she could protest, he hissed towards Salazar's book and they were on their way again. They landed in a dark, empty corridor.

  


  
'Lumos.'

  


  
The corridor lit up and Tom looked at the Tracker that stopped spinning.

  


  
'Where have you taken us?' Hermione hissed as she looked at the Tracker as well.

  


  
'Back from where and when we came, Granger. I don't think it is wise for us to stay in a different time if we have no reason to be there.'

  


  
A new destination appeared on the Tracker. _Fifth floor classroom below Ravenclaw Tower; May 1_ _st_ _1998, 10:55 p.m._

  


  
Furiously, Hermione looked at Riddle. 'That's where we just came from.'

  


  
He grabbed her arm. Another hiss, a dash of silver, and Hermione crashed into a Hogwarts' classroom. But she wasn't on the fifth floor. She recognised the classroom immediately. She was on the second floor. And where was Riddle? Shouts came from everywhere, and through the windows, she saw that the castle was brightly lit. She ran out the door and hurried down the corridor towards the stairs. Perhaps he made it to the classroom on the fifth floor? She jogged across the corridors when she heard a horrible, strangled hissing noise. It came from Myrtle's bathroom. Hermione threw open the door.

  


  
'Ridd…'

  


  
Her jaw dropped when she saw Ron standing there, and the sink dropped down, out of sight, leaving a large pipe visible. The Chamber of Secrets had been opened. 'How? Why?' she muttered, astonished.

  


  
Ron swirled around. 'Hermione!' he yelled, and he hugged her like crazy. 'You're back! Did you see what I did? I opened it!'

  


  
'Yes, I can see that; but how?' and she stared at him questioningly.

  


  
'Harry opened the locket speaking Parseltongue. I just mimicked the sound he made back then, and voila! Sesame opens,' Ron stated proudly.

  


  
He held up Helga's Cup. 'Care to come down and help me destroy one of those?'

  


  
Hermione frowned, but then, it dawned on her. 'Basilisk Fangs! Brilliant, Ron!'

  


  
Hermione noticed he was positively beaming at her praise. She looked down into the dark pipe. She really should be looking for Riddle and Helga's book, but Harry had told her something bad had happened between Ron and the locket. He wouldn't tell her what it was, but it was clear to her that Ron had had a hard time destroying Riddle's soul-fragment. She could not let him go down there alone. If that Cup was going to put up a fight, then Ron might need her help; especially, if he was inside the Chamber of Secrets. No one would ever think to look down there for him if something went wrong. She looked up at the tall red head.

  


  
'Just how long have you been standing here trying to mimic Parseltongue before it finally opened?' she asked teasingly.

  


  
'You don't want to know,' said Ron, sighing.

  


  
'That long, eh,' said Hermione, smirking; and she jumped into the pipe.

  


  
The slide down took forever, and Tom Riddle hadn't been kidding when he used the words disgusting to describe the pipe. It really was very filthy. So, when she reached the end of it, she was covered in slime. She landed with a loud thud on the damp floor. Ron came sliding down right behind her with a broomstick in his hand. Hermione looked at it with apprehension. She hated flying.

  


  
'We have to get back up there,' Ron said apologetically.

  


  
'Yeah, I suppose,' Hermione accepted grudgingly. 'Lumos.'

  


  
The tip of her wand ignited and she saw the small bones and skulls that were covering the ground of the dark tunnel ahead.

  


  
'This must have been really scary when you both came down here to look for Ginny, and there was still a very much alive Basilisk slithering around,' Hermione said thoughtfully.

  


  
Ron merely nodded. It wasn't a pleasant memory. They walked along the dark tunnel. And while Ron told Hermione all what happened, after she left them alone on the dragon, they reached the cave-in. Ron snorted and told Hermione this was the place where Lockheart made his foolish mistake of using Ron's broken wand to try to Obliviate Harry and him. They climbed across the rocks and continued their walk. The two halves of the doors towards the chamber were still standing ajar and they entered. Ron looked relieved he didn't have to try to speak Parseltongue again.

  


  
Hermione looked around curiously. She hadn't been in this part of the Chamber of Secrets before. The place had an eerie green glow about it. As she stepped through the pools of water on the ground, she noticed that alongside the wide passageway there were large stone serpents that seemed to support the ceiling. In the distance a huge statue of Salazar Slytherin became visible against the chamber's wall and right before it lay the motionless coils of a humongous green Basilisk. To Hermione's surprise, it was still very much intact, even though it had been years ago since it was killed. Why hadn't it decayed at all?

  


  
'Blimey,' said Ron, upon seeing the remains of the creature. 'Can you believe how close Harry had to come to that thing in order to kill it with nothing else but a sword? Lucky for us we never had to see that monster alive.'

  


  
Hermione coughed and looked at Ron, puzzled. She had encountered the damn beast twice alive. Ron's cheeks flushed, and he mumbled an apology. 'Sorry, Hermione, I forgot you were petrified by it.'

  


  
'Lucky you,' Hermione sneered.

  


  
She felt her temper rise, and it worried her. She recognised the feelings and knew the Blood Bond she had with Riddle was becoming rapidly influenced due the vicinity of the Horcrux.

  


  
'Sorry, Ron, I didn't mean to snap at you, but I think we better hurry and get out of here.'

  


  
'Couldn't agree more,' said Ron, 'I'll get the fangs; here, catch.'

  


  
And he tossed something towards her. Out of reflex Hermione caught it. She immediately knew she made a huge mistake when she identified the item that Ron had foolishly thrown towards her. A jolt flew through her body, and the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff fell out of her hands and clattered to the floor. And everything turned black in front of her.

  


  
'Mione? Are you all right?'

  


  
She opened her eyes and had to blink a couple of times, before everything around her came back into focus. A pair of concerned blue eyes was watching her. 'Hermione?' said Ron.

  


  
'I'm fine, I think,' said Hermione questionably, and she took Ron's hand to make it to a seating position. 'What happened?'

  


  
'You just passed out when I was getting the fangs out of the Basilisk,' answered Ron, and he showed her the fang in his hand. 'Did that Cup do something to you?'

  


  
And they both watched the Cup that lay beside Hermione's knee apprehensively.

  


  
'Give me that,' said Hermione through gritted teeth.

  


  
And she practically snatched the fang out of Ron's hand. With a swift motion, she stabbed it into the Cup. A loud crack, Helga's Cup broke, and a faint scream flared across the Chamber.

  


  
'Wow,' said Ron, impressed. 'Remind me never to piss you off.'

  


  
He scooped up the mangled remains of Hufflepuff's Cup and helped Hermione back onto her feet. 'Let's get out of here,' said Ron.

  


  
'You'll need to take some fangs with you, Ron. For the Ravenclaw Horcrux,' she added, while walking towards the statue of Slytherin.

  


  
'Aren't you coming too?' Ron asked, and he eyed her concerned.

  


  
'Yeah, sure,' Hermione responded absentmindedly.

  


  
She was watching the statue intensely. She knew that behind it lay many more corridors and she wondered whether it wouldn't be wise to check those out. Riddle had been very keen to make sure she would not remember her way in there. And she remembered what he had said after she had claimed never, ever to want to come back down here in the first place.

  


  
' _Oh, I don't know, Hermione. You can be incredibly stubborn when you think something needs done, even if it's risky and foolish. So I'd rather not take the chance.'_

  


  
What chance? What was he hiding in there? She heard a couple of cracks and turned to see Ron standing with his hands full of Basilisk fangs. And suddenly, it came to her.

  


  
' _I took the passageway towards the Chamber of Secrets from the Forbidden Forest.'_

  


  
'Damn,' she said from the bottom of her heart. 'Voldemort has another way into this castle.'

  


  
'What?' said Ron, shocked; and the fangs clattered to the ground.

  


  
'There is a passageway towards this chamber from the Forbidden Forest, and it's probably inside Slytherin's statue. I'll have to find that entrance,' said Hermione.

  


  
'I'll help you look,' responded Ron.

  


  
Hermione swirled around. 'No,' she said forcefully. 'You need to go back up and help Harry. Make sure he keeps focused on Horcruxes once the fighting starts.'

  


  
'You're worried he will go into his save the day routine?' Ron asked grinning.

  


  
Hermione nodded. They eyed each other meaningfully.

  


  
'I don't like leaving you here,' Ron said, concerned. 'How will you get out?'

  


  
'Don't worry. I know there is another way out. So, I will be fine. Besides, Riddle won't harm me. He can't afford to,' Hermione calmly stated.

  


  
She wasn't even surprised how easy she was able to lie these days. 'Make sure Harry stays on track; and please, be careful out there, Ron.'

  


  
'You too,' whispered Ron towards her back.

  


  
Hermione turned, aimed her wand at the statue. 'Defodio!'

  


  
A tunnel dug itself through the statue, until it reached the corridor on the other end. She waved goodbye to Ron, who was busy picking up the fangs. A worried smile was his response when Hermione started walking into the statue.

  


  
'Lumos.'  
  
---


	23. Chapter 23

---  
  
**Masters of manipulation**

  


  
**Chapter twenty-three**

  


  
Hermione walked through the underground corridor. It was looking oddly familiar with the Slytherin Banner on the wall and the serpent statues around every other corner. The brackets on the wall had flaming torches in them. Hermione wondered if they would light up automatically due to someone's presence, because she had not lit them. She stepped around another corner when she noticed the brief disturbance on the wall. The silvery tapestry had moved slightly. She pointed her wand at it and approached it with caution. She aimed at the hook that was holding it up.

  


  
'Evanesco!'

  


  
The hook vanished into non-being and the tapestry plummeted to the ground, revealing a circular doorway that had two carved snakes entwined as a locking mechanism. Hermione was utterly relieved she had found the passageway so quickly, but she jerked up into the air upon hearing the familiar high cold voice speak up behind her.

  


  
'I see you found the entrance to the Forbidden Forest passageway,' Lord Voldemort claimed amused. 'I told you that you would be foolish enough to come back down here, Hermione, and here you are.'

  


  
Hermione lowered her wand, sighed, and turned around. He was already inside the Chamber of Secrets. She had come too late. Lord Voldemort stood behind her; he was casually leaning against the wall of the corridor. Behind him in the air hovered Nagini; the snake coiled and uncoiled inside a large bubble. It appeared to be some kind of protective, charmed cage and it would, no doubt, prove impossible to pierce with a simple spell. He noticed her staring at the bubble.

  


  
'I wouldn't get any ideas if I were you. It is well protected,' he said coldly.

  


  
Hermione shrugged. 'I wasn't expecting it to be easy,' she replied calmly.

  


  
He smirked at her. Everything about him was so familiar. The way he held himself, the intonation of his sentences, even the expressions in his facial features were the same. She realised how little he really had changed. All that was different were the alterations he somehow made in his looks. She met his gaze without backing down.

  


  
'How did you know I was here?' asked Hermione.

  


  
He didn't answer her straight away; instead his eyes darted joyously over her body. Hermione looked down at herself. She was incredibly filthy; covered in dirt, slime, blood and Merlin knows what else.

  


  
'Oh, never mind,' she said, realising that Basilisk slime was a dead giveaway as to where she had been.

  


  
'You should have used a cleansing spell before rejoining my younger version if you didn't want to give away where you had hung out,' said Voldemort.

  


  
'Obviously, I haven't,' replied Hermione.

  


  
'Obviously,' he repeated.

  


  
'You've made alterations in the time-line,' she said casually.

  


  
'On a little fishing expedition, Hermione?'

  


  
'Not in one of your talkative moods, Tom?'

  


  
He snorted at her cheek and answered her question. 'It appears that my changes have proven unsuccessful. It merely delayed what seems to be inevitable and changed the occurrence's location. Time seems to feel very strongly about achieving the event no matter what I do.'

  


  
'Good,' said Hermione, slightly relieved.

  


  
Quickly, he looked in the other direction. And she frowned when she felt a pang of guilt coming from him of all people, but he spoke before she could address the strange occurrence.

  


  
'If you hold left from here on; after the third junction, there is a door that leads to a small chamber, which will get you inside the Room of Requirement. You will only need to stand there and think about where you want to go.'

  


  
'If I remember correctly,' said Hermione, 'that door only opens by the use of Parseltongue.'

  


  
He glared at her. 'See, I knew I should have knocked you unconscious back then. Hmmm… well … I guess it's too late to change that now. But you needn't worry about the door; I've already opened it for you.'

  


  
Hermione stared at him. How long had he been down here already? The question must have been written all over her face, because he answered it before she could speak up.

  


  
'Quite some time now,' he said. 'I came here right after shouting at the castle like – what was it again that you called it? – oh yeah, a maniac.'

  


  
And he snorted. 'Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint people's expectations, now would I?'

  


  
The corners of his mouth twitched upward slightly, and his eyes sparkled as though he was incredibly amused by this.

  


  
'You're here alone?' she inquired.

  


  
'Still fishing? … Yes, I'm here alone. I have no desire to share this entrance with others nor do I need to. The castle is quite reachable through the front door. It's not like it is well protected,' Voldemort said certain of himself. 'Protego Horribilis, please … I would have expected a bit more creativity from Flitwick,' he added mumbling. 'So, you needn't have bothered yourself with coming down here. I won't be using this entrance during the battle.'

  


  
Hermione noticed he wasn't making any remarks about the Cup or the fangs. Apparently, she had been able to keep that small detail from him and his younger self.

  


  
'But you've already used it. How can I be sure you won't change your mind once events start to turn on you?' she stated.

  


  
He seemed to find that thought highly ridiculous, but he responded smoothly just the same. 'Why, Hermione? Do you want me to make an Unbreakable Vow?'

  


  
'Funny, really funny,' she responded sarcastically.

  


  
He laughed out loud. It was not a pleasant sound. It was a high, shrieking noise, and Hermione felt her eardrums would thank him sincerely when he was done torturing them.

  


  
'I'll give you my word not to use it, if you give me yours not to destroy it,' he finally said.

  


  
She nodded.

  


  
'Good, that's our word sealed, then,' Voldemort said, pleased.

  


  
He pushed himself off the wall.

  


  
'So I guess this is goodbye, Hermione. You remember how to get out?'

  


  
And he pointed to the left corridor. She nodded and started walking into the direction he had told her to go. But his restraint vanished when her scent brushed his nostrils as she passed him, and he grabbed a hold of her from behind. His right arm flung around her waist, pulling her against him, while the fingers of his left hand wrapped themselves around her curls. She gasped out of the sheer force from the impact of the jolt that accompanied their reconnection, and he took advantage of her opened mouth to capture it with a ferocious kiss. She had no choice but to respond as his emotions flooded hers. His need, his desire, his angst, and his despair for her were overwhelming, while he desperately tried to feel her warmth, her kindness, her compassion, and her love through their connection.

  


  
Her eyes fluttered shut and she leaned back against his surprisingly warm body as this whirlpool of emotions roamed through them both, overtaking all sensible thoughts. The soft silk of his robes comforted her cheek as he forced her head to tilt sideways toward him, granting him better access to her mouth. Their kiss deepened and Hermione moaned in his mouth. His fingers removed themselves from her hair when he noticed her surrender and they were now moving over her body effortlessly, eliciting tiny jolts of pleasure upon contact. It was maddening and she turned around to face him. Anticipation spread throughout his features when she raised her hand and stroked his unusual snakelike face caringly before she stretched herself out on tiptoes and he lowered his head to resume their kiss. His hands locked around her hips and he steadied her against him, while Hermione's arms sneaked down - around his waist and moved onward to stroke his back. Their passionate embrace seemed to last forever in that brief moment of tranquillity stolen in time. And Hermione knew she would follow this man to hell and back again when their Bond strengthened itself for the last time. Lord Voldemort broke off the kiss and stared at her silently. His hands captured her head and a deep sadness flooded through Hermione as he looked at her with his crimson eyes.

  


  
'Stay out of the Great Hall, Hermione,' he whispered.

  


  
He let go and paced towards the passageway. The caged snake followed, hovering in the air behind him. Fear struck Hermione when he said those words, and she swirled around. 'Why? What are you planning to do there?' she asked sharply.

  


  
He hissed and spitted without drawing in breath and the door rolled to the side. He sent in Nagini before looking at her one last time.

  


  
'Nothing, dearest,' answered Voldemort and he strode into the tunnel ahead of him. 'It probably won't work anyway. I don't know why I keep trying,' she heard him mumble as he disappeared into the darkness of the passageway.

  


  
Hermione stood there for a short while, wondering what that was all about. But as she realised she was wasting precious time standing there, she swirled around and started running towards the exit. She took three left turns and saw the door, which stood ajar as promised. A single step up – she remembered that one well, because she had previously tripped over it – and she was in a small room.

  


  
'Room of Requirement,' she thought.

  


  
A second later, she stood in the same silver-and-green study chamber she had stood in before. She ran out the door into the corridor. She had to find Riddle and Helga's book! However, the moment the door closed behind her; it opened again. A familiar roaring sound reached her ears. She swirled around and saw the shadows on broomsticks fly towards the door chased by Fiendfyre. Ron, who dragged an unconscious Goyle with him, was the first to reach the door. Hermione grabbed the handle and stood ready to close it as Ron dove inside the corridor and dropped Goyle's body unceremoniously.

  


  
'Harry! Hurry!' she shouted when she saw him make a hairpin swerve and dive towards something.

  


  
'What are you doing! What are you doing! The door's that way!' Draco shouted in Harry's ear, clinging on to Harry's waist panicky.

  


  
And he pointed in Hermione's direction as Harry sped towards the maw of a fiery serpent. Draco screamed as the serpent lunged at them and Harry swerved again. Black smoke obscured them from sight.

  


  
'Harry!' Hermione yelled in terror.

  


  
The fire roared and bellowed. A broomstick flew out the Room of Requirement, and with a loud bang, Harry and Draco collided into the wall of the corridor. Hermione swept the door shut and a string of black smoke highlighted the door's contours before it disappeared into the wall. She turned and saw Malfoy, lying face down on the floor, coughing and retching. Harry staggered to his feet, while the Headless Hunt passed, screaming bloody murder. And now Hermione realised there were screams to be heard in every direction. The battle was very much alive all around them.

  


  
'Crabbe,' choked Malfoy, 'Crabbe…'

  


  
'He's dead,' said Ron harshly.

  


  
Malfoy remained lying on the floor, panting; he'd lost his mother's wand inside the Room.

  


  
'Where's Ginny?' Harry said sharply. 'She was here. She was supposed to be going back into the Room of Requirement.'

  


  
'Blimey, d'you reckon it'll still work after that fire?' asked Ron. 'Shall we split up and look?'

  


  
'No,' said Hermione. 'Harry, what's that on your arm?'

  


  
'What? Oh, yeah.'

  


  
Harry pulled the diadem from Ravenclaw from his wrist and held it up. A blood-like substance, dark and tarry, seemed to be leaking from the diadem. Suddenly, it vibrated violently and broke apart in Harry's hands. A faint distant scream of pain was heard.

  


  
'Fiendfyre,' whimpered Hermione, her eyes on the broken pieces.

  


  
'Sorry?' said Harry.

  


  
'Fiendfyre, cursed fire, it's one of the substances that destroy Horcruxes. But I would never, ever have dared to use it; it's so dangerous. Who started it?'

  


  
'Crabbe,' said Ron.

  


  
'How did Crabbe know how to…?' asked Hermione.

  


  
'Must've learned from the Carrows,' Harry said grimly.

  


  
'Shame he wasn't concentrating when they mentioned how to stop it, really,' said Ron. 'If he hadn't tried to kill us all, I'd be quite sorry he was dead.'

  


  
'But don't you realise?' whispered Hermione. 'This means if we can just get the snake.'

  


  
Yells and shouts interrupted Hermione, and Percy and Fred backed into view, duelling with a bunch of Death Eaters.

  


  
'Hello, Minister!' bellowed Percy, and he cast a fierce jinx at Thicknesse. 'Did I mention I'm resigning?'

  


  
'You're joking, Perce!' shouted Fred, while battling three Death Eaters at the time, and he glanced at Percy with glee. 'You actually are joking, Perce … I don't think I've heard you joke since you were…'

  


  
A loud explosion flew across the corridor. Hermione got thrown of her feet and was blasted into the wall. She could barely hold on to her wand as she crumpled up on the floor, debris falling on top of her. She heard loud screams as she struggled to get back on her feet.

  


  
'No, no, no!' someone was shouting. 'No! Fred! No!'

  


  
And as she saw Harry's pale face stare at the scene behind her, she noticed the book between the wreckage at his feet. There, between the delicate fabric of the Invisibility Cloak, lay Love of Mankind glowing brightly in the most yellowish of colours.

  


  
'Where did you get that?' Hermione asked, stunned.

  


  
Curses flew across the air.

  


  
'Get down!' Harry shouted, and he grabbed Hermione and pulled her to the floor.

  


  
Hermione screamed when she saw the Acromentula trying to climb through the hole in the wall. Two spells collided and the huge spider got thrown backwards. Someone grabbed her from behind, pulled her to her feet and dragged her into the next corridor. It was Harry. He was holding on to the book and the cloak.

  


  
'Take it!' he shouted, trying to get his voice heard above the battle noise.

  


  
And he held out the glowing book towards Hermione. She stared at it, puzzled. It was glowing.

  


  
'Muffliato,' said Hermione, and it became quiet around them.

  


  
'Take it,' Harry repeated.

  


  
'It is glowing,' Hermione said and she stared at Harry, while thinking about what it was that Helga had written down in her journal.

  


  
_'It was the reason why I made sure that, except for one person, no one would ever again read the knowledge in my book.'_

  


  
'Yeah, it's been glowing ever since I stumbled across it,' Harry said, holding the book out impatiently.

  


  
'It came to you,' said Hermione, thoughtfully. 'Love of Mankind came to you.'

  


  
'Hermione, we need to help the others. Take it!'

  


  
She looked at Harry. 'You're the Chosen One.'

  


  
'Yeah, yeah, the one with the power; pffttt… Hermione, we don't have time for this Trelawney shit. Voldemort is attacking Hogwarts, while you're running around with his miniature version.'

  


  
But Hermione was thinking about Helga's journal. And the things she had read in there.

  


  
_' which means you have the power to stop Salazar's heir from achieving his lifelong ambition. … For only the real Master of Manipulation, the one who holds the knowledge and controls the powers of all four volumes, can obtain total control and destroy the books, so the threat they possess will be eliminated for good.'_

  


  
And she remembered what happened right in front of her very eyes.

  


  
_'Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe.'_

  


  
Finally, it all added up for her.

  


  
'Of course, Harry, you can master Eternity in Time. Lord Voldemort used your blood for his resurrection. Your blood is connected to the Heir of Slytherin and as such it lingers on the pages; and you're also distantly related … which means you have a connection with Slytherin yourself … And only the one who masters all volumes can destroy them or use them. It's you. You're the Master of Manipulation,' Hermione stated with certainty.

  


  
'Hermione, Helga Hufflepuff said you were The One,' said Harry.

  


  
'I'm Muggle-born. My blood will never fully be accepted by Eternity in Time. So I can never truly master that one. Helga said that I'm The One with the Power to stop Riddle from getting all four books, but I'm not the Master of Manipulation. You are! It's either you or _Him_ , Harry. I'd rather it was you,' she simply said.

  


  
'You'll have to be. After all, love is the power he does not know about; and the book, only one person can read, came to you,' she added mumbling.

  


  
Harry had a vague and dazed expression on his face, while Hermione mumbled on. She opened up her beaded bag, started rummaging through it and pulled out Mind over Matter.

  


  
'As its owner I give this book to Harry James Potter,' Hermione stated, and she held out Ravenclaw's volume to Harry.

  


  
'Take it,' she commanded.

  


  
Harry, reluctantly, accepted the book in his hand. A bronze dash flew across the corridor.

  


  
'I'm right; I'm right,' Hermione said joyously, and she was practically bouncing on her feet.

  


  
'Hermione,' Harry hesitantly started, when he saw her pull out Infinity in Space. 'I've already got Horcruxes and Hallows to worry about.'

  


  
'And Voldemort,' Hermione added cheerfully, like it was no biggy.

  


  
'Yeah, I hadn't forgotten about him,' Harry said dryly.

  


  
'I'm sorry, Harry. I don't mean to add up on your problems, but you are the Chosen One.'

  


  
However, when she gave him Gryffindor's book nothing happened. Hermione frowned and Harry looked utterly relieved.

  


  
'See,' he said triumphantly, while pushing Infinity in Space back in Hermione's hands, 'it isn't me.'

  


  
Hermione looked at the book, puzzled. She knew she had to be right about this, but why...? 'Oh, of course…,' she muttered.

  


  
And she secretly pulled out the silvery knife from her beaded bag, while Harry was holding out the two other volumes to her, so she could accept them back.

  


  
'Look.' And she anxiously pointed behind Harry.

  


  
He swirled around with his wand raised; only to be stabbed with a knife by Hermione.

  


  
'Ouch! What you do that for!' Harry bellowed.

  


  
'Trust me,' said Hermione as she shook a drop of blood of the knife into Gryffindor's book. 'Now, if I'm not mistaken, you can master this one as well.'

  


  
And she held out Infinity in Space to Harry. He took it with a resigning sigh, and Hermione cheered as a dash of gold flew across the corridor.

  


  
'You could have just asked,' Harry said, rubbing his wounded arm annoyed. 'I would have given you my blood.'

  


  
'You don't want to become fully bonded to me, Harry. You just need to be able to use the book. You can't be subjected to the full effects of the Blood Binding Charm. I had to take it without your permission.'

  


  
And she cast the spell to heal his arm. 'Episkey.'

  


  
'I don't have much time, so you'll need to listen, Harry. You remember what I told you about the four Founders' books?' Hermione asked.

  


  
He nodded and replied: 'Yeah, dreadful danger, need to be destroyed, what else is new.'

  


  
'Exactly, I trust you, Harry. I know you can do it. It was never me with the power to destroy them. You're the One, Harry. You'll have to do it.'

  


  
'Hermione, I don't know anything about these books,' Harry rebutted.

  


  
'You will know; when the time comes, you will know.'

  


  
'Hermione?'

  


  
'I have to find Riddle,' Hermione continued. 'I'll get you Eternity in Time and tell you the chant to destroy the power of the books. You just focus on the snake with Ron, and I'll be back.'

  


  
Hermione hugged Harry right before she left. 'Remember they all need to be placed together in order to be deactivated.'

  


  
'Hermione!' Harry shouted as she turned and walked away. 'Where am I going to keep these in the mean time?' And he held the three glowing volumes up in the air. Harry felt it would be rather hard to destroy an aggressive, twelve feet long Horcrux-snake, fight Lord Voldemort and hold on to three large, heavy books at the same time.

  


  
Hermione smirked and tossed him her beaded bag. 'Make sure to keep Love of Mankind hidden in the Invisibility Cloak at all times. I think it might be the reason why the Tracker has problems locating it. And if you run into Riddle, make sure he doesn't see the bag and finds out you have the other books. He can master them all as well!' she shouted at him.

  


  
'Hermione! He doesn't understand love according to Dumbledore. Surely, he can't operate Helga's,' Harry said, puzzled.

  


  
'Trust me, Harry! He can! Through me!' Hermione shouted. 'Keep them hidden and don't worry, I'll find you! I promise!'

  


  
And she ran towards the staircase, ducked to avoid a stray curse and ran down the stairs. She grabbed a hold of the railing when the castle trembled due to an unknown force. She had to find Riddle and nick Eternity in Time from him. That was going to be problematic to say the least. She was still holding on to the railing of the staircase, when the earthquake-like shaking ceased. She ran further down. Her best clue was that they had been aiming to go to the fifth floor classroom beneath the Ravenclaw Tower. So, she was running in that direction.

  


  
'It's all righ', Fang! It's all righ'!' yelled Hagrid.

  


  
And Hermione saw the huge boarhound run towards her, frightened of the battle noises.

  


  
'Hagrid!' Hermione shouted.

  


  
Fang jumped at her, planting its paws on her shoulders and licking her face with enthusiasm.

  


  
'Mione! Hold Fang!'

  


  
But the boarhound had no intention of leaving his latest victim. So Hagrid could grab him with ease.

  


  
'Hermione, yer here! Yer here!' and he almost crushed her to pieces with his hug. 'Time ter fight, eh?'

  


  
Hermione nodded painfully. Her chest was still healing from the attack of Salazar's book. Hagrid's hugging didn't exactly help the healing process. And suddenly, she remembered.

  


  
'Hagrid, what did you want to tell me back in 1981 before Professor Dumbledore stopped you?'

  


  
Hagrid looked at her sheepish. 'Well, I wasn' suppose' to say. Dumbledore was afraid I'd change things, but it didn't happen anyway, righ'. Yer went to Durmstrang and got out. I don't know why I'd though' you'd die there before.'

  


  
The sound of a large explosion roared through the corridor. Fang howled and ran off.

  


  
'Fang! Fang! Don't hurt 'em, don't hurt 'em!' yelled Hagrid, and he stormed after the utterly scared dog.

  


  
From the corner of her eye, Hermione saw movement. 'Protego!'

  


  
A curse struck her silvery shield and she was thrown into the wall. A Death Eater blocked her path and paced towards her; his wand raised. A smirk became visible on his features as Avery pulled of his hood. 'Say goodbye, Mudb…'

  


  
A crystal ball hit him straight in the head and knocked him out cold. Sybil Trelawney became visible around the corner and she was serving the Divination Spheres around as a professional tennis player with a wand for a racket. Any Death Eater, who was foolish enough to come in range, was struck down by the furious Divination Professor.

  


  
'Here! Here! I've got plenty more from where they came!' she shouted as she ran past Hermione, swirling another ball from her bag through the air.

  


  
Hermione scrambled back onto her feet and she was about to continue running towards the Ravenclaw Tower, when she heard Tom Riddle's smooth voice come from the corridor she just passed by.

  


  
'Now, why don't you just put that wand down and we can forget this ever happened. That way, I don't have to become nasty and hex such a lovely, little lady, since you obviously have no idea who you're threatening here.'

  


  
'Oh, I think I know pretty well who I'm looking at, Tom Riddle.'

  


  
'Ginny!' Hermione thought, shocked.

  


  
She flew around the corner, and saw Ginny standing in an utterly destroyed corridor. The Forbidden Forest was visible in the distance as the castle's wall had been completely demolished. Her long red hair and robes were blazing in the wind as Ginny stood there, her jaw set in determination and her wand raised at Tom Riddle, who leaned seemingly casually against the corridor's wall.

  


  
'Granger, so glad you could join us,' Riddle cheerfully said.

  


  
Ginny turned her head, and Hermione saw Riddle move.

  


  
'Protego!'  
  
'Stupify!'  
  
'Impedimenta!'

  


  
And two gong-like sounds were heard when Hermione's Shield Charm enveloped Ginny, protecting her against Tom's stunner, and Riddle's silvery shield, that he non-verbally cast, got hit by Ginny's Impediment Curse. Riddle smirked at the stalemate. Quickly, Ginny stepped forward, swung her fist around, and with a harsh crack, she broke Lord Voldemort's nose.

  


  
'No!' shouted Hermione, when she saw Riddle move and Ginny took another swing…

  


  
'Avada Kedavra!'

  


  
Hermione heard the caster on her left. The jet of green hurtled towards her, and she dove into the corridor where Ginny and Tom were standing. The Killing Curse struck the wall and blasted the rocks in every direction.

  


  
'Hermione!' Ginny yelled.

  


  
Ginny's left arm with clenched fist was frozen in the middle of another swing towards Tom Riddle and he was looking alarmed in Hermione's direction. They both turned her way and raised their wands. Hermione was about to scramble back on her feet.

  


  
'Stay down!' yelled Riddle.

  


  
Hermione saw the movement of his arm and dropped flat on her stomach, covering her head with her arms, as his curse soared over her. The sheer force of it made her hair rise on the back of her head as it passed, and it struck down the Death Eater that stood behind her violently. For a brief second, Hermione realised how much Tom had been holding back during that time he had duelled her in the Room of Requirement.

  


  
'Stupify!' shouted Ginny.

  


  
And a second hooded figure flew through the air. Hermione rolled over to face the corridor from where she came. Her wand was ready to hex whoever came in sight. Riddle came charging down the corridor, wiping the blood of his face. He grabbed a hold of Hermione, who was still in the process of getting to her feet, and dragged her along.

  


  
'Quickly, or we'll be trapped here,' he said, alarmed.

  


  
Hermione tried desperately to stagger to her feet, while Tom was hurtling her around by her arm. When she finally succeeded, they ran across the corridor. Ginny was positively baffled but followed them anyway, determined not to lose sight of Riddle. They reached the landing in front of the staircase.

  


  
'Look out!' yelled Ginny.

  


  
Hermione got pushed down to the floor. Tom swirled around; diverting several curses that now soared past them.

  


  
'Avada Kedavra!' shouted Riddle to his left.  
  
'Reducto!' shouted Ginny to their right.  
  
'Duro!' shouted Hermione behind them.

  


  
Hermione jumped up. More Death Eaters came running towards them.

  


  
'Downstairs!' ordered Riddle.

  


  
He pushed Hermione in the direction of the staircase next to them. She barely grabbed a hold of Ginny's robes with the tip of her fingers and flashed her wand. 'Glisseo!' shouted Hermione.

  


  
The stairs flattened beneath their feet and the three of them glided down, causing the curses from their attackers to fly by.

  


  
'Avada Kedavra!'

  


  
Another jet of green left Riddle's wand and struck down one of his followers. The three of them glided across the landing and crashed into the wall opposite to the staircase, and a herd of galloping desks thundered past them. A sprinting Professor McGonagall followed them, waving her wand above her head. 'Charge!' she screamed.

  


  
'Wheeeeeeeeee!' Peeves zoomed over them, dropping Snargaluff pods down on the Death Eaters.

  


  
The castle's walls and floors started shaking again and a loud thundering noise emanated all around them. 'Oh, damn,' said Riddle, recognising the spell. 'We are so out of here.'

  


  
He swirled around, grabbed Hermione and hissed. 'Hermione!' yelled Ginny, frightened.

  


  
A dash of silver flew around Tom and Hermione. And the castle's walls shook all around them. Curses flew towards them. 'Protego!' roared Tom.

  


  
'It hadn't worked,' Hermione thought relieved. 'For some reason the Time Travel had not worked.'

  


  
But then, she noticed Ginny was gone.

  


  
'Charge!'

  


  
Several suits of armour came thundering past them, followed by Minerva McGonagall, who was waving her wand above her head. A teenage Minerva McGonagall! She halted upon noticing Tom and Hermione.

  


  
'Hermione!' she shouted and she threw herself at Hermione, hugging her senseless. The armoured knights clattered to the ground when Minerva stopped waving her wand. 'You're all right; you're all right. We're have you two been? You've been gone for months,' she said accusatory.

  


  
A loud explosion shook the floor of the corridor, the wall burst and large rocks started to fly towards them. Tom made a jabbing motion with his wand, which thrust the rocks in the other direction and scattered them to pieces along the way.

  


  
'What's going on?' shouted Hermione confused, because she still heard battle sounds coming from every direction.

  


  
'Grindelwald,' explained Minerva, 'his forces have entered the castle.'

  


  
'NO!' said Hermione.

  


  
'He is here too?' Tom asked Minerva eagerly, who nodded affirmatively.

  


  
'No,' repeated Hermione and she shook Tom, whose eyes were gleaming vengefully. 'He is not supposed to come here. Dumbledore would have gone over there. We've changed something. We've wrecked Time.'

  


  
Riddle looked at her and hoisted his shoulders. 'We can't possibly change that now, Granger. Let's deal with Blondie first, alright.'

  


  
A curse impacted on the wall. The three of them started running, because Blondie's Forces came charging down the corridor. A jet of green hurtled straight towards Hermione. A jerk at her collar, and it missed within inches as she fell to the floor.

  


  
'Watch it, Granger,' said Tom, towering above her, while he returned the favour to Grindelwald's men. A similar green light left his wand, followed by several other ones in a fast, consecutive motion.

  


  
'Expulso!' cast Tom at the wall next to Grindelwald's men.  
  
'Impedimenta!' cast Minerva in general at the attackers coming from the other side.  
  
'Deprimo!' cast Hermione on the floor below them.

  


  
And they tumbled down as a hole was formed on the very floor they were standing on, causing the curses of Gellert's goons to miss their alleged targets. With a loud thud, they crashed to the floor on the storey below. And as Hermione staggered to her feet, she saw Minerva and Tom do the same.

  


  
'Brilliant, Hermione,' said Minerva, seeing that this corridor was vacant.

  


  
They heard footsteps approach the hole on the ceiling and started to run out of firing range. As they ran around the corner, they halted in shock. A group of little children was being held by several fully grown wizards. Hermione and Minerva raised their wands, but Tom pulled them back behind the corner. Hermione was about to protest, but Tom held up his hand and shook his head. He made an unidentifiable motion with his wand and aimed. A purple jet hit the ceiling, and suddenly, the walls started to shake. A roaring, bellowing noise was heard in the distance, picking up force as it came closer and closer. Hermione frowned upon hearing it again, and upon seeing Tom smirk about something around the corner, she also looked. Grindelwald's men were being swallowed up whole by the walls of Hogwarts.

  


  
'It seems some of Gryffindor's theories can be useful after all,' shouted Tom above the loud thundering noise.

  


  
Minerva ran towards the first years when the walls were finished eating.

  


  
'Quickly, this way,' she said and guided them into the vacant corridor. 'We need to get them out of here.'

  


  
Tom looked with disgust at the tiny, crying children. 'Be my guest,' he said, and he paced towards the staircase, mumbling something about getting even with Gellert, who would have been wiser if he had stayed at home underneath his hair dryer to add some more volume to those stupid curls of his, instead of coming to his domain.

  


  
Hermione looked doubtful. She wanted to help Minerva, but she couldn't lose track of Riddle and Eternity in Time in the process. They needed to undo whatever they did in the future that caused this major change in her history. She looked at Minerva hopelessly.

  


  
'Go!' Minerva said understandingly, and she waved towards the staircase that Riddle was descending on. 'We'll take the passageway to Hogsmeade.'

  


  
'I'll change this,' shouted Hermione behind her back, as an apology to Minerva for leaving her standing alone with the responsibility over a group of first years. And she ran down the stairs after Riddle. 'Riddle!'

  


  
He did not wait. She saw him abandon the stairs and enter the corridor on the floor below her. But when she arrived there, he was nowhere in sight. She ran up the corridor. 'Riddle!'

  


  
A curse struck her shield that she had raised just in time upon hearing the casting of the curse behind her. She swirled around, but Professor Merrythought came charging down the corridor from the other direction and took down Hermione's assailant with her.

  


  
'Get out of here, Evans!' she panted upon running past Hermione.

  


  
'Piertotum Locomotor,' Merrythought cast, and the statues and suits of armour all over Hogwarts came to life. 'Hogwarts is threatened! Defend us all!' Merrythought commanded the objects and they started charging down corridors on every floor in search of the enemy.

  


  
'Professor!' Hermione shouted after the retreating figure of Galatea. 'Where is Grindelwald?'

  


  
Galatea Merrythought shouted back, while hurtling a fierce jinx to someone Hermione could not see. 'He is duelling with Dumbledore in the Great Hall!'

  


  
_'Stay out of the Great Hall, Hermione.'_

  


  
Hermione's head swivelled left and right. Where did Riddle go to? Why had he come here? If Grindelwald was at ground level; then, why had Riddle not run completely down the stairs? What could he possibly be doing here on the second floor? The Second Floor! Shocked, she ran around the corner, opened the door to Myrtle's bathroom and witnessed that the sink surely was down and the pipe was visible.

  


  
'You've got to be joking,' said Hermione resentfully. 'No freaking way, Riddle.'

  


  
But as she ran towards the opening, she noticed it was beginning to close up again. When she jumped into the pipe for the second time, she scratched her arm on the sink that was moving back into the centre of the pipe to close the entrance. She almost got stuck there and would have been crushed to pulp; but she was able to push herself out of the way, before the sink had completely moved back into position in order to rise again. As she slid down the pipe and crashed to the floor at the end of it, she knew that this time around there was a very alive creature living down there. And she wasn't certain the Blood Bond protection she had running through her veins, that prevented Riddle and Salazar's book from killing her, also counted for that Basilisk of his.

  


  
'Lumos.'

  


  
She started running down the tunnel, until she reached the door to the inside of the Chamber of Secrets. It stood slightly ajar. 'Riddle!' shouted Hermione, but there was no reply.

  


  
Keeping her fingers crossed, Hermione peeked past the doors. She saw the familiar green glow, the damp floor, the serpentine pillars and the humongous, ego-stroking statue; but there was no sign of Tom Riddle or the Basilisk. She ran down the aisle. Where the hell had he gone too? And, more importantly, where had he left his little pet?

  


  
Then, she saw the large, open, plumbing pipe on her right. And she knew that was where they went. She ran in and followed the pipe's slow ascension, while her wand illuminated the pathway ahead. Her chest was hurting severely, a sharp pain pinched in her left side, and her breaths were beginning to get erratic. She leaned for a brief moment against the wall of the pipe to catch her breath. She knew she was having trouble due to all this strenuous exercise, which she was unaccustomed too, but eventually Hermione ran on. The pipe, suddenly, descended, and she shrieked as she slipped in a pool of slime and fell down. She swirled through a tapestry and landed very ungracefully on her bottom in the Slytherin Common Room.

  


  
'Ouch!'

  


  
But the sight before her eyes made her forget about her aching body and painful behind immediately. Three grown men in blood red Durmstrang robes and one Slytherin boy lay on the floor. Their eyes were vacant and their bodies unmoving; all life was drained from it. They had looked straight into the deadly eyes of the Basilisk. And Hermione knew where Riddle was heading. She stormed towards the exit and ran down the dungeons corridors. The dead bodies were a sure testament she was going in the right direction. She ran up the stairs where one of Grindelwald's men lay dormant in a pool of his own blood. It was Vasili. His hands were still covering his eyes. Though, in the end that had not helped him much. He had been bitten to pulp by some very big fangs.

  


  
Hermione ran up the stairs, down the corner and she bumped straight into Tom Riddle. They tumbled over the floor and the Killing Curse that was aimed at Tom missed, due to their fall. The Basilisk turned its head towards them. She closed her eyes and covered her head with her arms. And as she was laying face down on the floor, she heard: a hiss, a thud of body falling dead to the ground, a lot of hissing beside her, and then, someone grabbed her and pulled her close.

  


  
'Granger, are you crazy?' Tom said furiously.

  


  
She grabbed a hold of him as tight as she possibly could and a whirlwind of emotions flooded through her.

  


  
'Eh, eh, it's all right … you can open your eyes now. I told it not to look at you … Hermione … you're crushing me,' Tom said, patting her on the back.

  


  
She looked up into a pair of dark eyes that were watching her with concern. She grabbed a hold of his shirt and started shaking him. 'You can't do this! You can't control where that Basilisk looks at during a battle. You need to send it away, Tom. You need to. Please. We have to go back and undo what we did in 1998. This isn't supposed to happen this way. It just isn't!'

  


  
Tom just stared at her distressed features, and eventually, he hissed something to the Basilisk, causing it to move into the nearest plumbing shaft. A crash; the wall beside them exploded, and the last thing Hermione saw before a brick hit her in the head was Dumbledore and Grindelwald exchanging curses in the Great Hall.

  


  
'Hermione, Hermione.'

  


  
Someone was shaking her vigorously, and her head was already hurting severely. 'Leave me be,' she muttered.

  


  
'Hermione, yer all righ'?' Hagrid asked, concerned.

  


  
Hermione opened her eyes and saw Minerva McGonagall and Rubeus Hagrid bent over her, eyeing her meticulously. Her eyes darted the corridor she was in. 'Where is Riddle? What happened?' asked Hermione frantically.

  


  
'You got hit by a brick and Riddle told us to take care of you, to keep you safe. So we brought you here. I've taken care of the wounds on your head and arm, as well as cleaned you up a bit, but for some reason the blood on your blouse won't come off,' Minerva answered, puzzled about the latter.

  


  
'Thanks,' Hermione said absentmindedly.

  


  
She wished her head would stop pounding and she really could care less about her clothes being ruined right now. Hermione saw she was dragged into the adjoining corridor that appeared empty.

  


  
'Grindelwald?' she questioned.

  


  
'He is winnin',' said Hagrid, clenching his fists.

  


  
'No,' said Hermione appalled, as she scrambled back on her feet with a little help from Minerva and Rubeus. 'No, he is not supposed to … he is not…' And she stared at them as her future fell apart before her very eyes. 'Where is Riddle?' she asked anxiously.

  


  
'Ran into the Great Hall,' said Hagrid.

  


  
'We have to leave this place, Hermione,' said Minerva. 'Grindelwald's people are everywhere. It's not safe anymore. Come.'

  


  
'No, no, this can't be happening. It just can't. Why is this happening?' shouted Hermione desperately.

  


  
And she remembered.

  


  
_'We'll look after Harry, Hermione. He'll be all right,' Hagrid said, giving her a concerned look. 'You, on the other hand, Hermione, you need to avoid...'_

  


  
_'Well, I wasn' suppose' to say. Dumbledore was afraid I'd change things, but it didn't happen anyway, righ'. Yer went to Durmstrang and got out. I don't know why I'd though' you'd die there before.'_

  


  
_'I would not worry about that too much, Hermione. Tom is only trying to prevent the inevitable,' said Dumbledore. All I can say is that his efforts will be in vain. Time will correct the error.'_

  


  
_'Stay out of the Great Hall, Hermione,' he whispered._

  


  
_'It probably won't work anyway. I don't know why I keep trying,' she heard him mumble as he disappeared into the darkness of the passageway._

  


  
'It's me,' whispered Hermione. 'He changed Time for me.'

  


  
'What?' asked Minerva distracted, and she grabbed Hermione's arm. 'Come on, we've got to go.'

  


  
'I'm the error Time is correcting,' said Hermione quietly. And she looked at Minerva in horror. 'Grindelwald is going to win, because I'm here!'

  


  
She pulled free from Minerva's grasp and started running towards the door to the Great Hall.

  


  
'Hermione! You can't go in there! It's not safe! Hermione!'

  


  
Hermione swept through the door and the force of the magic inside the Great Hall nearly made her tumble to the ground immediately. The door behind her flew shut and the thud reached her ear with a definite finality. Tom was battling a skinny wizard to her left on the opposite side of the Hall, while Dumbledore's and Grindelwald's curses soared through the air in the centre. The sheer force of those curses made the hairs on Hermione's arm stand up straight, even though she was yards away from the two battling wizards.

  


  
'More kiddies!' crowed Grindelwald upon noticing her. 'You've always sought the strangest ways of support, Albus! Don't you have some mature wizards to battle me? Maybe you can ask that fool of a brother of yours to come over!'

  


  
Dumbledore's curse soared directly at him, and Hermione knew she was right when she saw the silver flash of Time as it diverted Dumbledore's curse when it was only inches away from Grindelwald. Time was shifting and it was replacing Lord Voldemort with what it deemed to be the next best thing, Gellert Grindelwald.

  


  
Gellert jeered at Dumbledore. 'Lost your touch, my friend? Your aim seems to be a bit off! Let me show you how it's done!'

  


  
In the mean time, Tom's curse crushed the skinny wizard he was battling, and as he swirled around to aim at Gellert, he saw Hermione.

  


  
'Look out!' shouted Hermione fearfully, when she noticed Tom had, somehow, moved in between the two battling wizards.

  


  
'Protego!' Hermione yelled.

  


  
Two curses flew through the air and Tom dove to the ground. He cast a Shield Charm as well, and it collided with Hermione's Charm, providing the cover one charm would not have given him from the two collapsing curses above his head. Hermione started running towards him.

  


  
'Get out, Granger!' yelled Tom furiously, while he tried crawling out of the way of the sparks above him.

  


  
But the force of Dumbledore's and Grindelwald's magic could not be contained centre stage anymore, and two jets flew across the Hall, pulverising the statues and walls they impacted on. For a second, it was quite. Tom scrambled to his feet and started running out of the way towards Hermione. Grindelwald smiled.

  


  
'Time to get rid of your precious reinforcements, Albus,' he said mockingly.

  


  
He swirled around and pointed his wand at Tom. 'Avada Kedavra!'

  


  
The jet of green left Grindelwald's wand and Tom froze up as he saw it hurtle towards him. And Hermione knew no amount of Horcruxes in this world would save Lord Voldemort from the tentacles of Time itself as she deliberately swirled in front of the path of the Killing Curse, causing it to hit her dead on in the chest. Hermione got tossed backwards by the sheer force of Grindelwald's curse and she landed straight into Tom's open arms. A terrifying, chilling scream reverberated through the Great Hall. And Time itself seemed to freeze in that moment, recognising the correction of the error it had come to undo. A brief silvery flash occurred; one, that went unnoticed by any of the participants in the Great Hall. And Time continued again, reset on its original path.

  


  
Dumbledore sent out his next spell. 'Expelliarmus!'

  


  
Grindelwald roared with laughter at the choice of a measly disarmament spell and did not even raise his wand in defence. He was convinced that his old friend was going to miss again; but, without Time intervening, Dumbledore's spell hit him dead on. The Elder Wand flew through the air straight into the hands of its new master and everything was as it always was supposed to be. Dumbledore stepped forward, when his eyes fell on Tom Riddle. Tom had let go of Hermione Granger, and without her feelings and emotions, his eyes turned a stable colour of crimson.

  


  
'Tom,' said Dumbledore sorrowfully.

  


  
'You'll pay for this, old man. Some day … I will make you pay.'

  


  
And Lord Voldemort left the Great Hall.

  


  
'NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!'

  


  
From underneath his invisibility cloak, Harry watched Molly Weasley sprint towards Bellatrix Lestrange, who had just fired a Killing Curse at Ginny. He did not know what to do. He wanted to protect Molly, who was now battling Bellatrix furiously, but Voldemort stood a few feet away, duelling McGonagall, Kingsley and Slughorn at once. Harry felt torn between wanting to attack the one and protect the other.

  


  
It was when it happened; Harry knew it would, before it did. Bellatrix' laugh filled the Great Hall when Molly's curse soared beneath her outstretched arm, killing her on impact. And Harry could almost feel Voldemort's fury at the fall of his best lieutenant, and it exploded with the force of a bomb. McGonagall, Kingsley and Slughorn were blasted backwards; Voldemort swirled around and raised his wand at Molly. The tip of it flashed green.

  


  
'Protego!' roared Harry, and his Shield Charm expanded in the middle of the Hall as Harry pulled of his cloak, revealing his presence. But the sudden rise of the sun outside made Voldemort's features turn into a flaming blur. Harry heard the high voice shriek as he, too, yelled.

  


  
'Avada Kedavra!'  
  
'Expelliarmus!'

  


  
The green jet met the red one halfway through, and just before Tom Riddle's body hit the floor with a mundane finality, Harry caught the Elder Wand in his hand. And Lord Voldemort was dead, killed once again by his own rebounding curse.

  


  
It was silent for a moment in the Great Hall, but then, the tumult broke free. People screamed and cheered and yelled. Ron and Ginny came storming towards him, but Harry was looking around, frantically searching for Hermione. She had said she would be here. She had promised. He needed help with those damn books. Ginny jumped in his arms, hugging him, and Ron slammed him on the back.

  


  
'You did it, mate. You got him,' Ron said proudly.

  


  
And then, Harry saw her. Professor McGonagall was standing a couple of feet away from him, having scrambled back on her feet after Voldemort's Blasting Charm had tossed her away.

  


  
'Where is she?' Harry shouted towards Professor McGonagall. 'Where's Hermione?'

  


  
Minerva McGonagall turned as pale as a sheet, and she shook her head. 'I'm sorry, Harry. She is gone,' Minerva said teary-eyed.

  


  
And Harry's desperate, terrifying scream filled the Great Hall upon learning that his best friend, Hermione Jean Granger, had died on March 23rd 1945, killed by the dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald.   
  
---


	24. Chapter 24

---  
  
**Masters of Manipulation**

  


  
**Chapter twenty-four**

  


  
'She can't be dead. She promised to come back. She promised!' Harry shouted it at his Transfiguration Professor.

  


  
Minerva shook her head. 'Grindelwald killed her, Harry. I was there. I saw it happen.'

  


  
Harry shook his head. He looked at the body that lay only a few feet away, the dead body of Lord Voldemort. Harry had always been worried that Hermione would be killed because of him. That Lord Voldemort would kill her for helping him. And now he had to listen to someone telling him that Gellert Grindelwald was responsible for that. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. He looked sideways to Ron and Ginny. Ron was nailed to the floor and Ginny was looking from McGonagall toward Harry not believing what she heard. And then he saw Hagrid, and Professor Sprout, and he felt a huge temper rise inside of him.

  


  
'YOU KNEW, YOU ALL KNEW!' he screamed at them and McGonagall. 'You could have stopped her. You could have told her not to go. She could still be here. She did not belong there; she never belonged there.'

  


  
His last words were barely audible. And Harry buried his head in his arms, not knowing what to do next, unable to think about how to deal with this dreadful news. He needed Hermione here, because he did not know what to do. A pair of soft arms wrapped around him. It was Ginny.

  


  
'Harry.'

  


  
He could hear she also had a hard time dealing with this news. That she tried to remain strong for him.

  


  
'She told me she would be back, Ginny. Hermione promised me that she would help me deal with these.'

  


  
He pulled a beaded bag out from underneath his sweater and picked out three volumes from its contents, Love of Mankind, Infinity in Space and Mind over Matter. The books were glowing softly, giving of a mixture of yellow-black, bronze and gold lighting to the place around them. Minerva stared at the books in horror.

  


  
'That can't be,' McGonagall said, horrified.

  


  
She pulled out her wand, ran over to Lord Voldemort and kicked him, before grabbing his wrist, checking for a pulse. She dropped it after a short while, content that he really was dead after all, and stared at the books.

  


  
'Dumbledore said the power of the books would be destroyed on the very day that Tom Riddle would die. He said that was the reason Hermione sacrificed herself. Those books aren't supposed to still be active. They aren't supposed to glow after the two people who could master them have passed away,' said Minerva furiously.

  


  
But now certain things began to make sense to Harry. Things Hermione had done, and things she had told him when they had spoken in that abandoned corridor. Harry stared at the three glowing volumes in his hand. Hermione had said that he needed to destroy them, but how? He did not even have the other one. Hermione had only given him these three. She had never come back from her search for Riddle and Slytherin's book. He looked up at Minerva.

  


  
'Where is Salazar Slytherin's book?' Harry asked in a demanding tone.

  


  
'I don't know.' Minerva said apologetically. 'We never found Helga's and I thought Eternity in Time had gone lost in the fighting, because Riddle did not use it to bring her back. He really went over the edge, you know, after Hermione died.'

  


  
'He was already a sick bastard before he met Hermione. Don't you dare blame her for this,' Ron hissed, while his arm waved towards the corpses that were still very visibly everywhere.

  


  
'I wasn't,' Minerva said, appalled at the notion. 'I know what he was like before she arrived, but I also saw how somewhere down the line he changed, slightly. I never fully understood it, but I think Hermione did. She wouldn't explain it properly to me, but I know it had something to do with this Blood Bond they shared. And the moment she was gone, he changed back to his old self. It was horrible.'

  


  
'Oh, I know all about this Blood Bond he forced on her, so...'

  


  
'Ron,' Harry said, warningly. 'Stop, Hermione…' But Harry could not finish the sentence. He felt it wasn't his secret to tell. He knew Hermione's relationship with Tom Riddle was a bit more complicated, but she had only told him, not Ron. 'Hermione would not want us to argue,' he merely said instead.

  


  
'Professor, she told me I had to be the one to deactivate the books,' Harry continued. 'Riddle had to have had Eternity in Time when they left here for the last time... If it has gotten lost after that… You need to tell me what happened. I need to find that book, for Hermione. So she did not die in vain.'

  


  
McGonagall told him everything that happened, but when she came to the part where Grindelwald had launched his Killing Curse towards Tom Riddle, Minerva became silent. Harry realised she did not know how to break this news to them, but somehow he knew what Hermione would have done.

  


  
'She stepped in front of it,' Harry said calmly, to the utter distress of the two Weasleys that were present.

  


  
'NO!' Ron shouted angrily. 'No, she would not have done something that stupid.'

  


  
Harry nodded. 'Yes, she would have. Hermione understood Time better than anyone else, Ron. She stepped in front of it to prevent a major temporal catastrophe.'

  


  
Harry looked at Voldemort's dead body, and the answer struck. 'The book is still here! Riddle could not use it to bring Hermione back, because the book was beyond his reach. Tom Riddle still has it.'

  


  
Now, everyone was looking in confusion at Harry.

  


  
'Harry,' Ginny said hesitantly, 'you just said Tom Riddle could not use the book because he still has it, but if he has it, how can it be beyond his reach?'

  


  
'Time,' Harry said triumphantly, and he hugged Ginny effusively. 'It is Time, correcting the error. I can still save her!'

  


  
And he looked at the three glowing books in his hands. 'But how,' he mumbled, 'Hermione said she could never truly master Salazar's book, but I could. And she dropped my blood on this one.'

  


  
And Harry stared at Infinity in Space. 'Why this one? Why not on the one from Rowena Ravenclaw? She just gave that one to me? What is so special … The Blood-Binding Charm she used!' he shouted.

  


  
Hermione had created a small bond between him and her, so he could activate Gryffindor's volume. But she had made sure the Charm's full capacities would not come to turn on him by taking his blood without his permission. However, Harry did not understand how this all could possibly be of assistance. The three books were active. Sure, they were glowing in his hands. It was a definite sign that he was their master, but he didn't know what to do with them. He had no idea how they could help him find Eternity in Time.

  


  
'I don't have the knowledge on how to use these three, Hermione,' Harry spoke out loud. 'You should have told me the theory on how to activate them, how to use them.'

  


  
And he started pacing the Great Hall.

  


  
'I'm holding the answers in my hand. I know I am. I need a place to think. I need Salazar's book to come here in the Great Hall, so I can fix things that went wrong. I know how to use Time, Hermione, you explained that much to me, but I don't know how to use the others without you. I need you here, Hermione!'

  


  
Harry dropped the books to the floor in shock when the leaves of Infinity in Space suddenly started turning violently, until they reached a predestined page. For a second the book merely glowed, and then, Mind over Matter's leaves were turning, until they also stopped at the centre page. Finally, Love of Mankind did the same. And all three books lay still for a spit-second. A dash of gold, bronze and yellow-black simultaneously flew across the Great Hall, blinding everyone in its path, beckoning home their brother volume.

  


  
The answer came quickly. A silvery flash occurred. Everybody in the Great Hall froze with the exception of Harry. He stared around in confusing. Another silvery flash and Harry stared in horror at the scene that appeared visible before his very eyes.

  


  
Dumbledore shouted. A yet of green light flew from Grindelwald's wand and travelled straight towards Tom Riddle. Hermione swirled around in front of him and the curse hit her dead on, straight in her chest. Harry heard Riddle's desperate scream as Tom caught Hermione's lifeless body in his arms before it hit the ground. And the scene froze up, like a movie set on pause.

  


  
'No, no, no,' mumbled Harry as he walked towards the frozen scene of the past in front of him. 'I'm supposed to prevent this, Hermione. You can't still be dead. You can't.'

  


  
'Death is merely another state of being. Miss Granger understood that.'

  


  
Harry looked up. A plump figured woman with gingery red hair and blue eyes approached him. She wore a long black dress with yellow accents and a yellow scarf.

  


  
'Who are you?' Harry asked, curious about another unfrozen presence.

  


  
'I'm Helga Hufflepuff. And it's an honour to meet you, Harry James Potter. Miss Granger told me so much about you. She was convinced you would succeed and I guess she was right, for you are the true Master of Manipulation. You're The Chosen One, the master who would act responsible with this kind of power over others, for only the true master would know not to use his manipulative skills.'

  


  
'I can't be,' Harry said, stunned. 'I don't know how to use the books and I don't have Eternity in Time.'

  


  
'Ah, but you do, my boy, you do,' Helga said.

  


  
Hufflepuff walked over to the frozen scene. She bent over, reached underneath Tom's sweater and pulled out Eternity in Time. She smiled to the dead girl in Tom's arms.

  


  
'Miss Granger is a very smart witch. Rowena was very upset she wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw.'

  


  
'She would have been far more suited in my house, Helga, as her final year in Hogwarts already showed all of us. That little witch uses her brain far more for cunning and deceiving than for anything else.'

  


  
A black robed bald man with pale grey eyes and a long grey beard, which length seemed overly compensatory to Harry, walked forward. He eyed the scene before him and smirked. 'Such a nice couple, don't you think Mister Potter? I wonder how you are going to solve your little dilemma here.'

  


  
He took Eternity in Time from Helga and smiled at it affectionately, but Helga snatched it back out of his hands.

  


  
'That no longer belongs to you, Salazar.'

  


  
'Helga, darling, it will always belong to me, as you are very much aware of,' he smoothly said.

  


  
Harry noticed the striking resemblance in intonation between Riddle and Slytherin, but before he was able to say something, a third thundering voice bellowed through the Great Hall.

  


  
'Leave her be, Snakeface. You have no business to be here anymore.'

  


  
Salazar sighed, and his eyes rolled to the ceiling.

  


  
'On the contrary, Godric, I have nothing but business to attend to here. Those are, after all, two of my students,' he snidely said, and he pointed towards Riddle and Granger.

  


  
'That girl is a Gryffindor through and through, Salazar. I'm not even going to start a debate with you on that. So, you better leave her alone as well.'

  


  
'Godric, my man, you cannot collect all the women in the world for yourself. I've explained that to you a thousand times. Besides, I assure you, women don't find that sorry excuse you call bravery and heroism even the slightest bit attractive.'

  


  
'Since when have you become an expert on the opposite sex, Slimy? Last thing I remember was Julia fleeing your quarters, because you sucked at it.'

  


  
Harry was watching this ridiculous debate with astonishment. He noticed Helga Hufflepuff was staring at the two in annoyance when a soft hand was suddenly placed on his shoulder. Harry looked up, and an incredibly fair woman was giving him a kind smile.

  


  
'Do you mind if I borrow that wand of yours for a second?' the dark-haired woman with deer brown eyes asked him, smiling.

  


  
Harry did not mind at all, and he handed Rowena Ravenclaw the Elder Wand. He recognised her from the statue in the Ravenclaw Common Room. The kindness in Rowena's voice disappeared completely when she addressed the two quarrelling men in the centre of the Hall.

  


  
'Boys, BOYS! Why don't you both go sit in your respected corners and shut up, so Helga can explain the situation to Mister Potter.' And she raised the wand at them.

  


  
Both men stared at the wand apprehensively.

  


  
'Do you reckon that's the You-Know-What?' Salazar asked Godric.

  


  
'Yes, this is my wand, Salazar. So, you both best behave,' Rowena answered his question, waving loosely with the wand in his direction.

  


  
'Whoa,' Salazar said, holding up his hands on getting confirmation on the identity of the wand in question. 'Just take it easy, Rowena. We don't want any accidents to happen.'

  


  
'Yeah, Rowena, we were merely having a small discussion between old friends,' Godric added, also backing up. 'Nothing to get excited about, see friends.'

  


  
Demonstratively, he slammed his arm around Salazar's shoulders. Both men were grinning stupidly at Rowena, and Helga snorted.

  


  
'Good, well … then … Helga, be my guest,' Rowena said, giving Helga a nod, who returned the favour.

  


  
'Now, before we were rudely interrupted…,' Hufflepuff said, glaring at the two men who were still eyeing Rowena with caution, since she had not put away the Elder Wand. '…I informed you that you are indeed the one who masters all four volumes, which makes you the Master of Manipulation, Mister Potter. Use it wisely.'

  


  
Salazar snorted at Helga's last statement, but he held his comment in when he noticed Rowena was staring at him. Helga handed Harry the last volume he needed and she was watching him expectantly. Harry looked at the books. If Hermione would have been alive and awake, she would have told him that they were all glowing more brightly than ever before, but she was very much dead. So Harry remained unaware of this. Harry looked at his friend. She had asked him to place the books together and say some chant to render them powerless.

  


  
'I don't know the chant. Hermione never had the time to tell me,' Harry said, eyeing Helga Hufflepuff expectantly.

  


  
Salazar snorted again. But Helga told Harry the wording of the chant to deactivate the books. Harry remembered it after three repetitions. And he knew he would do what Hermione had wanted him to do. So he fell to his knees and placed the books on top of each other. Harry was about to start with the chant when Salazar spoke up.

  


  
'You're actually going to let that boy kill his best friend without informing him about that, Helga?' he softly asked.

  


  
Rowena raised her wand. Salazar looked at Harry for help.

  


  
'Wait!' Harry shouted.

  


  
Rowena lowered her wand and shook her head.

  


  
'Don't listen to him, Harry,' Godric stated. 'He's a lying, conniving son of a bitch.'

  


  
'Oh, am I? And what are the three of you, then? Honest?' said Salazar viciously as the last word spat out of his mouth. 'You all are just like me. You used that girl for your Cause even though you very well knew she would never be able to achieve a full mastership. She could have undone the Blood-Binding Charm Voldemort had placed upon her if you would have supplied her with the right information, but you didn't. No, you provided her with the means that drew her in even further. We all are alike, the four of us. I'm just the one who isn't blatantly denying that.'

  


  
'I should have broken that pathetic, manipulative, little neck of yours ages ago,' Godric said threateningly.

  


  
'No, wait,' Harry said.

  


  
Salazar smiled triumphantly, but Harry did not address him. He looked at Helga Hufflepuff.

  


  
'Is that true?' Harry asked her.

  


  
Helga's eyes darted towards the still body of Hermione Granger. 'She understood our reasons, Harry. I never wanted her to get hurt. You must believe me.'

  


  
'So, it's true what Slytherin is saying. You used her,' Harry deduced angrily.

  


  
'Hermione Granger was stuck in the past with no means of escape. She would never be able to master Eternity in Time due to her blood-heritage. No matter how bright she is and how well she understood the theory behind time travel,' responded Hufflepuff.

  


  
Helga eyed the now shrugging Salazar with sparkling fury, but she continued her explanation to Harry. 'And without the power to truly activate Salazar's book she would always be dependant on Riddle to send her home. So, yes, I used her, because I knew she could do it. I knew she could lead the books away from his Heir and bring them to the Chosen One. And I was right. You have them. You can finish this, mister Potter, once and for all. I admit that things didn't quite turn out the way I had hoped. I never wanted her to die. That was Time roaring its ugly head,' Helga said sadly.

  


  
'But if I am this master you say I am, can't I change things?' Harry asked, puzzled.

  


  
'Yes, of course you can,' Salazar said impatiently. 'Don't listen to those idiots over there, Potter. You can still save your friend. You can turn things back. Use my book.'

  


  
'No,' Helga said, shocked. 'No, you can't do that, Harry.'

  


  
'But he can, Helga,' Salazar sneered, 'just because you don't want him too, doesn't make him incompetent of doing so.'

  


  
Harry eyed Salazar suspiciously. 'Why should I listen to what you say? Your little heir over there is responsible for the mess Hermione is in.'

  


  
'And you can undo it all, Potter. Just pick up my book and shift back through Time. It will be like she had never been there in the first place.'

  


  
Eternity in Time, suddenly, abandoned the pile it was on and flew right into Harry's waiting hands. The leaves started turning, until they reached the predestined page.

  


  
'Don't do this, Harry,' Godric said. 'Remember who's advising you to do this.'

  


  
'I have to save Hermione,' Harry said through gritted teeth. 'I have to.'

  


  
'Would she want you to?' Rowena asked wisely, and she watched Harry with kindness in her eyes as she handed him the Elder Wand back.

  


  
Harry watched his friend's dead body, and he remembered.

  


  
' _No, Harry, you listen. We're coming with you. That was decided months ago – years really.'_

  


  
' _Didn't realise that Ron and I know perfectly well what might happen if we come with you? Well, we do.'_

  


  
' _Some things are worth dying for.'_

  


  
' _I trust you, Harry. I know you can do it. It was never me with the power to destroy them. You're the One, Harry. You'll have to do it.'_

  


  
Hermione would not want him to do it. She wanted him to destroy the threat the books possessed. That was what she had asked him to do.

  


  
'And you can always do that after you resurrect her, Potter,' Salazar said.

  


  
But his tone of voice had lost the certainty it had before, and Harry heard how anxious he was. He heard how badly Slytherin wanted him to save his friend's life. And he just knew there had to be an angle.

  


  
'You don't care about Hermione. She is a Muggle-born witch. She stands for everything that you despise, so stop pretending. You don't fool me for a minute, Slytherin. You have another agenda. If I do what you say, something dreadful will happen,' Harry said coolly.

  


  
'You're going to do what they want? After they've manipulated your best friend into the arms of your enemy,' Salazar sneered disbelievingly.

  


  
'No, I'm going to do what Hermione asked of me, because frankly, she is the only one in this Hall that I truly trust,' Harry replied.

  


  
Harry placed all volumes together and started chanting. When he was finished one last flash occurred and all the books disappeared one by one, until only Love of Mankind remained, but it wasn't glowing anymore. Shocked, Harry looked around him. The Founders had vanished with the exception of Helga Hufflepuff. And everything else was still frozen. Something must have gone wrong. Had he used a wrong syllable in the chant somewhere?

  


  
'You did everything right,' Helga answered his unspoken question.

  


  
She picked up her book and held it out towards Harry.

  


  
'You have a decision to make, Mister Potter. And I assure you it is not an easy one. You see, my book could not be destroyed by that mere chant alone, because its powers are currently in use. The only way to finish this is to render those forces to completion; then and only then alone will this truly end.'

  


  
'I don't understand,' Harry said.

  


  
'As you might have noticed the scene from the past has not vanished, even though Salazar's book is gone from this world.'

  


  
Harry had not missed that detail. He found it painful enough to watch.

  


  
'This is due to the way in which Hermione Granger died. She realised that her presence in the past was the reason behind Time suddenly perceiving a fatal error. The error Time had established as existing was that Lord Voldemort would not rise to power as he was supposed to, because of her presence around him. Miss Granger was smart enough to know that Time was busy correcting this error - meaning this sudden disappearance of a Dark Force - by ensuring Gellert Grindelwald would succeed where he failed the first time around,' Helga said.

  


  
'So Professor McGonagall was right. Hermione stopped Riddle.' Harry was utterly astonished.

  


  
'Yes, she did or so Time seems to think. I'm afraid I'm partly to blame for that or at least my book is.' Helga shook her head. 'That book definitely has a stubborn mind of its own, I can tell you that. After I asked Miss Granger to help us destroy the powers of the books, something out of the ordinary occurred, something I had not foreseen. You see, I never intended for them to get attracted to each other. I did not want Hermione to get anywhere near this Horcrux-making maniac. I just wanted to make sure the four books went to you instead of him, but Love of Mankind saw an opportunity and intervened. It manipulated Tom Riddle's feelings towards Miss Granger and vice versa. I was really concerned about this, because even though I know the Power of Love, I also understand the dangers of it. The destructive force it truly can be. So, I tried blocking the pages. But they kept vanishing back to the planet whenever Riddle and Granger were together and in some way susceptible to manipulation. And after Hermione Granger completed their physical bond with that Blood-Binding Charm I knew I had lost. And I was worried that we would lose this incredible young witch to the dark side, but I underestimated her. She, apparently, according to Time, had pulled him out instead.'

  


  
'And because she did, Time decided to kill Riddle and have Grindelwald succeed in taking over Britain,' Harry said, appalled.

  


  
'Yes, and Miss Granger realised that. She knew she had to give Time the correction it wanted, but not in the way it was planning to achieve it, because it would have become a disastrous situation if Gellert Grindelwald had taken over.'

  


  
'Hermione let Grindelwald kill her, so Tom Riddle would resurrect his alter ego Lord Voldemort again,' Harry said, sorrowfully. 'That's horrible.'

  


  
'Yes, and Time recognised the change in Riddle, the moment his Blood-Bond with Hermione ceased to exist. So when Time saw the correction it needed upon her death, it reinstated Grindelwald's downfall and it occurred almost similar to the way it had happened before.'

  


  
'By Dumbledore defeating him by and becoming the owner of the Elder Wand, reshaping history back to its original course,' Harry added. 'But why are they still here? What has all of this to do with your book?' Harry asked curiously.

  


  
'Grindelwald's Killing Curse hit Miss Granger, while Time was actively involved in the events, and while a true Master of Manipulation was already actively at the scene. And that one intervened in the events that took place. You see, Harry, all four books were in some way present along with Tom Riddle, Slytherin's Heir. And that gave him the opportunity to stop an event he never wanted to see happening, namely the death of Hermione Granger.'

  


  
'But I had three of the books?' Harry commented, confused.

  


  
Helga walked over to Tom Riddle once more and pulled out the Tracker. She opened it up and removed the four still glowing pages.

  


  
'Four pages from four books that if placed together can create the power to control the universe itself. Tom Riddle never knew what he truly had in his hands all along, while he used that device to try and track down my book,' Helga explained.

  


  
Harry looked at the glowing pieces of parchment in Helga Hufflepuff's hands.

  


  
'So you don't need the entire books?'

  


  
'You need the magical power of the four books placed together. These four pages contain almost that exact same magical force,' Helga said, glancing at the parchments. 'When Miss Granger thought of a way to track down my book, she was correct in assuming that the pages from the three other volumes would take her to mine. But when she found a fourth page, she merely thought it would help her track down my book quicker. She hoped it would make the Tracker more accurate. She never realised the threat she faced when she helped Riddle place those four pages together. Fortunately, he did neither. He should have, because he made a couple of miraculous saves that day due to these four pages.'

  


  
'But if Tom Riddle used those four pages to stop Hermione's death, then he has already achieved in becoming a Master of Manipulation,' said Harry, worried.

  


  
'Yes, but he doesn't know it. And that will, I hope, be enough to save all of us,' replied Helga. 'But we'll get to that problem later. There is more you need to know first. Now, Hermione used blank pages of the three volumes she had at her disposal.'

  


  
'So Riddle wouldn't notice a page was missing,' Harry added.

  


  
'Yes, but she did not know that the blank pages of our books contain all the magical force and information of the book they were taken from.'

  


  
Harry looked puzzled. This he did not understand.

  


  
'Mister Potter, can you tell me where vanished objects go?' Helga asked, knowing Harry knew the answer to that.

  


  
'Into non-being, that means everywhere,' Harry answered quickly, remembering what Professor McGonagall had said to the Ravenclaw doorknob.

  


  
'So if non-being resembles blank pages…,' added Helga, patiently.

  


  
'…then they contain everything!' said Harry.

  


  
'Yes, so Riddle had the complete force of the books from Godric, Rowena and Salazar at his disposal, and he had this little page from mine.'

  


  
She held out the page from her book to Harry, so he could read it.

  


  
'Chapter 25, How to Reverse the Dynamic State of Death,' read Harry out loud, and now he understood what Helga was trying to tell him. 'It is exactly the power Riddle needed. It's what he wanted done on the 23rd of March 1945. He wanted to reverse Hermione's state of death,' Harry said knowingly.

  


  
Helga nodded.

  


  
'And since, in a way, he was already a Master of Manipulation, he could. He didn't even have to know at that time that he was; he merely had to wish for what he wanted to happen and since that coincided with the magical force of my page combined with the complete forces of the three other books, it is what occurred. The power has provided him with the means to achieve it. And the pages have done it in a way that would elude Time itself, as you can see,' Helga said, while she pointed to the frozen scene in front of them.

  


  
'Now, you've lost me,' said Harry, confused.

  


  
'Riddle had already used Eternity in Time twice to change the course of history. Time has been trying to kill Miss Granger for quite some time now. In both cases Riddle prevented Hermione's death, only to find out that she died on another occasion. This was due to an eminent flaw in Salazar's theory. A flaw, that only gets neutralised by the use of all four books or in Riddle's case by the use of all four pages together. When he wanted Hermione to remain alive in the presence of the four pages, they provided him with the permanent solution, so Time would not come back to haunt Hermione. Her death in 1945 was imminently based on the temporal flaw that she was, waiting to be corrected. The only way to prevent that occurrence was if Time would not perceive a temporal error at all,' Helga explained.

  


  
'You mean if events would occur as they had,' added Harry. 'If Lord Voldemort would do what he was set to do without Hermione having been there. That way Time would not realise something was off.'

  


  
'Exactly, you're getting it,' said Helga, beaming. 'It's why the pages created an alternative second outcome. So Time could be fooled permanently. Hermione only appeared to have died that day in March. It was, shall we say, kind of a duplicate that took over the effects of the Killing Curse. However, in reality her real body has been sustained in this temporal vortex, waiting for the day Time would not take offence to her presence anymore.'

  


  
'You mean this can make Hermione alive again?' Harry asked, and he watched the four pages and Helga's book with wide eyes. 'But I thought you could not bring back the dead.'

  


  
'No, you can't, but you can bring back someone who has not died yet. Miss Granger did not exist in 1945, so there is no official record of her death. Not here on earth and not in the afterlife. Her death is perceived as a temporal error. It does not exist in reality. So while it would appear to the ones around her that she died in 1945, the page of my book was able to create this twin state of being and she has remained in this temporal vortex until today. You can end that.'

  


  
'How?' Harry said eager, but Helga held up her hand.

  


  
'There is a catch,' she said softly. 'And it contains these four pages and their true master. Now, you can use them, since you master all four books. But you won't be able to destroy these pages since they have already been claimed by Riddle. He is their master and he will be the only one who can destroy them. As you can see Miss Granger isn't the only one frozen in this temporal vortex.'

  


  
Harry looked at Riddle and Hermione, and he got an eerie feeling to where this was heading.

  


  
'Due to all those Binding rituals the two of them have engaged in, her life-force has become dependently bound to Riddle's and vice versa. If you end this by saving your friend's life, you will inadvertently also save his.'

  


  
'They tethered each other to life while the other lives,' Harry said, remembering what Dumbledore had told him about his Blood-connection to Voldemort. 'So if I save Hermione, Lord Voldemort will resurrect,' he added sadly, because he knew he could not do that. Hermione would kill him.

  


  
'No, if you save Hermione, the Tom Riddle over there will resurrect,' Helga said, and she pointed to the eighteen year old Hogwarts Head Boy who was holding Hermione in his arms.

  


  
Harry looked at the frozen scene before him.

  


  
'You mean the one Time perceived not to become a Dark Lord? The one who is actually capable of feeling love through his bond with Hermione?' He asked hopefully.

  


  
'Yes, that Tom Riddle. However, Harry, Time is not all-knowing. There are no guarantees he will not be or become him again,' Helga said.

  


  
'But he is bound to Hermione, and the only reason Lord Voldemort existed was because he could not feel emotions such as love. He did not understand them. If he can…'

  


  
Harry stopped talking. He felt torn inside. He wanted to save his friend. But could he truly risk it? How big was the change that Riddle would follow the same path again when he was able to feel what Hermione felt…? And he thought of what Dumbledore would have done. He had given Snape a second chance. Would he have done the same for Riddle?

  


  
Helga seemed to sense his dilemma, because she added the following concerns to the list. 'If you decide to do this, Harry, you must make sure Riddle never finds out he was the one responsible for this occurrence in the first place. He must never be aware of the true potential of these pages and they need to be kept away from him, because not even the best man in the world can resist their temptations. Do you understand what I'm saying, Harry?' asked Helga, concerned.

  


  
'Yeah, you mean I have to make certain Tom Marvolo Riddle doesn't realise he's actually Master of Manipulation in areas of life and death,' Harry said, tired.

  


  
'He's only that if he holds these four pages,' added Helga softly. 'They can be cleverly hidden.'

  


  
'Where?' Harry asked sarcastically, remembering very clearly Riddle's ingenuity in finding things that were supposedly hidden.

  


  
'Some place he will never dare to look, the place where his greatest fear resides,' answered Helga.

  


  
'Beyond the veil,' replied Harry. 'His greatest fear is death. So, you can take these pages with you?'

  


  
'Yes, and they will be quite safe there. He can't summon them through the veil,' she replied. 'However, if he faces up to his fears…'

  


  
'You said I had another option as well,' Harry said quickly, fearing the answer.

  


  
'You can help her move on,' Helga said calmly.

  


  
'You mean kill her!' Harry shouted.

  


  
'Technically, she will have already died if you choose that option. You merely extract her from the temporal vortex she is currently in. That way, she can finally rest in peace,' Helga said, sounding regretfully.

  


  
Harry started pacing the Great Hall. Suddenly, he moved over to watch the scene before him more thoroughly. He had not done it before, because the sight of Hermione's empty eyes was incredibly hurtful to him. But if he needed to make a choice, he had to be sure. Harry watched the face of his archenemy holding on to his best friend, and he made a decision.  
  
---


	25. Epilogue

---  
  
**Epilogue**

  


  
_Nineteen years later_

  


  
Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The leaves on the Whomping Willow were turning all kinds of red, brown and gold colours. Every now and then the tree shook itself to get rid of some of the bothersome leaves. 'Perhaps they were itching,' Harry thought as he walked toward the castle he had once considered home.

  


  
Seeing Hogwarts had always been a wonderful, comforting feeling for him. He looked at the Gryffindor Tower and remembered all the fun and joy he had while staying there. He also remembered the pain that same castle had brought him.

  


  
'Harry!' his former Professor shouted, excited.

  


  
Headmistress Minerva McGonagall stood in front of the castle's doors, waving joyously to him. Her hair had turned a light shade of grey. Harry wouldn't be surprised if his son James was responsible for several of them. James did take after his namesake, and he was so unlike Albus Severus who was far more serious and who, according to Ginny, had his father's worrying nature. His children meant the world to him, and he thought of his beautiful girl Lily. She was so much like her mother. He missed them already, and they had only parted moments ago. Lily had stamped her feet in fury when she realised she and her mother were not going to Hogwarts with him, but were staying in Hogsmeade instead. Harry understood why Ginny had not wanted to come, and he had promised Lily that he would take her to Honeydukes later. Ginny had given him a stern look at hearing this obvious bribery, but Lily's face had lighted up, so his wife had let it go. She probably remembered how hard it was to be the last one still at home with your parents.

  


  
'Harry, it is so good to see you again.' Minerva grabbed his hand and shook it vicariously. 'I trust your journey over here was fine?'

  


  
'It was alright. We Apparated over.'

  


  
'Oh.' Minerva looked around, obviously searching for Ginny and Lily.

  


  
'They went shopping, but Ginny and I hoped you could join us for dinner at the Three Broomsticks later on,' Harry said.

  


  
'I'd loved to. So, are you ready for this?' Minerva asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

  


  
'I think I can handle another guest lecture, even if it is to my son's year. Besides, I hear you found an excellent new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor,' Harry said, smirking.

  


  
'Yes, I believe so,' Minerva said. 'The last one was pretty horrible, wasn't he?'

  


  
'Well, when it comes down to bad teachers, my vote still goes to Gilderoy Lockheart,' Harry said, chuckling. 'I think no one can beat the incident with the Pixies.'

  


  
'Don't remind me. I still have nightmares about that man and his autographed pictures,' Minerva said, and she shuddered.

  


  
'So, tell me, do I have to worry about any lack of discipline in this DADA-class?' Harry asked, amused.

  


  
Minerva snorted. 'I sincerely doubt that.'

  


  
'Coming through! Look out!'

  


  
An enormous Mimbulus Mimbletonia hovered toward them. The grey cactus-like plant with boils instead of spikes had grown tremendously over the years. Professor Longbottom was levitating it sideways through the corridors; otherwise it wouldn't even have fitted. Harry and Minerva stepped into a doorway to let the humongous thing pass, and Neville let out a shout of joy when he saw his friend. He hugged Harry and started chatting about how the Mimbletonia had grown and that it, unfortunately, no longer fitted in his own quarters. But Neville was quickly interrupted by several anxious shouts. One of the boils had fired on the other side of the plant and several students were covered in puss. Neville swiftly made his way over there and relieved them of the disgusting stuff.

  


  
'See you at dinner, Harry!' he shouted, while making a bit more haste to get the plant to the greenhouse.

  


  
Finally, they reached the DADA-classroom where the fourth years were residing. 'Good luck with James Potter and companions,' Minerva said deviously. She obviously was enjoying herself a lot.

  


  
Harry grinned. 'I think I can handle my own kid, Minerva. Just because you lot let him get away with murder, doesn't mean I will.'

  


  
But it turned out Harry did not have to handle his own kid. The new DADA-teacher beat him to it. He had introduced Harry to the class and just when Harry noticed his son's movement, so did the Professor. He swooped over there and confiscated whatever Weasley joke shop item James had planned on using. Harry grinned inwardly when he saw James looked utterly disappointed for not having been able to disrupt his father's lecture. The Professor whispered something to James. Harry saw that his son started to snicker, and James looked at the Professor with delight in his eyes. Harry had a firm inkling he knew what was said.

  


  
Talking about everything that had happened was not always pleasant, but it was not an entirely bad thing either. Harry loved telling others about his friends. How clever and brave they had been. How they always had been there for him, always. And he told his son's class every heroic thing Ron and Hermione had done, until it was finally over. He felt the jolt of pain in his heart at remembering that day. The day Lord Voldemort died. The day he heard about the death of his best friend, Hermione Jean Granger. He remembered the excruciating pain he had felt when Minerva told him she had died in 1945, killed by another Dark Lord on a date that predated her birth. Only a few people in the Great Hall had understood Harry's desperate, anguish scream. Everybody else was happy that Lord Voldemort was gone. Only the people who knew, who had been around, who had watched her fall; only those people realised why Harry wasn't happy. Why it still wasn't over and done with.

  


  
And he remembered the choice Helga Hufflepuff had given him. It was no choice to begin with. He could never have let Hermione die and certainly not under these circumstances. His mind dwelt back to the events in the Great Hall that day.

  


  
_'How do I save her?' Harry asked Helga._

  


  
_But the Founder merely vanished when he spoke those words, and the book he held in his hand, suddenly, became too hot to hold onto. Harry dropped it and stepped back, watching the leaves tear apart from the leather binding and vanish into the realm of the afterlife. And a flash of darkness – of utter blackness – occurred, followed by a flash of the yellowiest light Harry had ever witnessed. It lighted the Hall so ferociously that it was more blinding than sunlight, and he had to cover his eyes until it was gone. But when he looked up again, he witnessed the most peculiar event in history._

  


  
_'Protego,' Dumbledore shouted; but it was pointless, the curse in question had no defensive measures._

  


  
_'Avada Kedavra,' Grindelwald said._

  


  
_A jet of green light flew from Grindelwald's wand and travelled straight toward Tom Riddle. Hermione swirled around in front of him and the curse hit her dead on, straight in her chest. Harry heard Riddle's desperate scream, as he caught Hermione's body in his arms before it hit the ground. Another yellow flash and the scene splintered in two, and suddenly, there were two Hermione's and two Tom's…_

  


  
_Harry saw that one of those pairs became less focused, disappearing into this strange mist together with Grindelwald and Dumbledore; while the other pair became more substantial, until there was only one Hermione and one Tom; and the scene moved on..._

  


  
_Tom clutched onto Hermione for life. Hermione took a deep breath and started to cough… It was in that moment Harry ordered the four glowing pages in his hand to vanish into non-being._

  


  
_He remembered clearly what happened next. The uproar, that occurred amongst those who recognised Tom Riddle. Fortunately, there weren't that many. So, he was able to shush them and he got everybody who knew - including Hermione and Tom - out of the Great Hall and into the Head's Office as soon as possible. There, the arguments started. They were all shouting at him - all except for Tom and Hermione who seemed rather confused at the moment. Eventually, it was Hermione who caused everyone to shut up._

  


  
_'What for Merlin's sake is going on?' she asked. 'How did I get here? I was … am… Grindelwald killed me! Harry, what did you do?'_

  


  
_'I'd like to know that too,' Riddle said, amused._

  


  
_So, Harry told them the whole story. Well, almost the whole story, he left out the part of the four still very active pages. And, of course, he did not inform Riddle of his mastership; but he explained that all four books were destroyed, and he told a half truth by telling everybody present that he had used the power of those four books to get Hermione back. At which point everybody's eyes darted, puzzled, between him and Riddle._

  


  
_'Oh, Harry,' Hermione said, sighing._

  


  
_It was obvious to him she understood what his dilemma had been, and she was shaking her head in clear disagreement of his choice. However, he also noted Riddle was staring at him with – was that gratitude? – in his eyes for saving Hermione; but it was gone the moment Ron spoke what was on everybody else's mind._

  


  
_'We all understand you saving Hermione, but why did you have to bring that - that one too?' Ron said, waving his hand dismissively at Riddle._

  


  
_'Because we are bonded for life,' Riddle answered calmly, and with a sly smile on his face._

  


  
_Harry had to grab Ron to prevent him from strangling the Slytherin right there where he stood, but Ron calmed down upon realising something._

  


  
_'Surely, with the destruction of those books came the destruction of the Binding Charm that lingered on those pages. So, after Harry destroyed those books that bond ceased to exist,' Ron stated certain._

  


  
_Hermione's cheeks flushed red at hearing Ron make a correct assumption under different circumstances._

  


  
_'Forgot to mention a little detail to him?' Riddle said softly, but loud enough for Ron to hear; and he eyed Ron rather smugly, while he said it._

  


  
_Ron took a menacing step forward and Harry felt he was fortunate to be able to intervene before things turned incredibly ugly in there. Then, the debate about what to do with Riddle started. Hermione sat down and was still shaking her head, while Harry noticed Riddle seemed very amused by the current situation. It was quickly decided by everyone else that they would get Riddle thrown in Azkaban for all the crimes he had committed, but the Heir of Slytherin snorted loudly at that option._

  


  
_'What crimes?' Tom shrewdly asked. 'Didn't Potter just kill the one responsible for all of them? Do tell, how are you going to explain to the wizarding community that I'm Lord Voldemort when his very dead body lies downstairs for everybody to see?'_

  


  
_Hermione made a kind of "you-could have-seen-that-one-coming-a-mile-away" motion with her hands, causing Tom to wink at her affectionately, which ensured the fact that Harry, once again, had to restrain Ron from doing something extremely unwise to the utter amusement of a certain mister Riddle. Fortunately, Hagrid had noticed Harry's problems and took a hold of Ron, making it impossible for him to attack Tom Riddle anymore._

  


  
_But Riddle's statement had enlightened everyone in the room of the huge problem they were facing. So when, yet again, another debate rose, Tom simply sat down next to Hermione, smirking towards Ron's reddened face. Ron said something in Tom's direction that could not be heard over the voices of the others, but Harry had an idea to the contents since he recognised the green monster that currently haunted his friend. And he was very glad that Hagrid was holding on to Ron; especially, when Tom started whispering something in Hermione's ear, like none of the debates about his future concerned him the slightest. Harry saw Hermione shrug in response and she whispered something back that, apparently, was entertaining, because Riddle grinned widely. Eventually, Hermione got tired of the arguments and dealt the final blow to any ideas of incarcerating Riddle._

  


  
_'Every barrister in the world will want to take his case. You can't possible expect to ever convict him of anything; even if you could convince people he is who he is, which will be extremely hard, because I doubt anyone wants to believe that. It will be Fudge all over again. And let's say they do believe you, you can't convict someone for crimes he hasn't committed, yet,' Hermione said simply._

  


  
_'He killed Myrtle, his father and his grandparents,' Ginny stated firmly._

  


  
_'Prove it,' Hermione responded. Upon noticing that everyone – except for Tom and Harry – watched her bemused, she explained the trouble with that. 'Morfin confessed to the murders. He was trailed, convicted of them, and he is dead now, which means you can't show his memory was altered. And Myrtle doesn't know how she died; plus, his diary is destroyed, so you have no proof there either.'_

  


  
_Tom smirked and added something else to the mix; 'Even if you can prove I was responsible for Myrtle's death, so was he. I'd love to hear which one of us did it.'_

  


  
_Everyone stared at Tom in horror and disbelief; Hermione was back to shaking her head at Harry – the look on her face clearly indicated she thought he had made a foolish decision. Tom was now on a roll and he continued smugly; 'Did you kill the innocent one, Potter? Because if I'm Lord Voldemort, then who was he? Perhaps the Ministry should prosecute you? Tampering with Time, eh, Potter. And I wonder… if the Authorities feel for some reason that I should not exist in this era, then … how will they feel about Miss Granger being here? Hmmm… I think I'm going to enjoy this trial business an awful lot.'_

  


  
_'There is always another, faster way to solve this problem permanently,' Ron said menacingly._

  


  
_Sometime during Tom's speech Hagrid had let go of Ron, who now eyed Riddle even more threateningly. Tom assessed the situation and took on a very leisurely posture in the couch he sat on. He spread his arms out wide and mockingly said; 'Bring it on, Weasley.'_

  


  
_Ron drew his wand. Hermione jumped between the two in fright, while Harry grabbed a hold of Ron's wand-arm quickly._

  


  
_'No, Ron!' Harry and Hermione yelled simultaneously._

  


  
_Riddle smirked behind Hermione's back, not having moved an inch._

  


  
_'You – you… You're actually protecting him?' Ron shouted to Hermione._

  


  
_'They'll send you to Azkaban, Ron! You can't just murder someone, you know!' Hermione replied. 'Remember what happened to Sirius.'_

  


  
_'That's Voldemort!' Ron yelled, and he waved his free arm in Riddle's direction._

  


  
_'No, that's Tom Riddle,' Harry said, and he pretended not to notice Tom quirked an eyebrow at that statement._

  


  
_Professor McGonagall intervened and ushered them into the backroom of the Head's Office, so they could discuss matters more privately without interruption. Tom smirked at that, because it was obvious McGonagall meant without him jabbering his mouth off and upsetting the others. Harry agreed with McGonagall; and they all left the main office, leaving Tom and Hermione behind. Something Ron was not at all in agreement with, but Hagrid had simply lifted Ron up and carried him into the next room, making it impossible for him to push the matter any further._

  


  
_Harry felt very uneasy about Tom Riddle's calculated responses. Had he made the wrong choice? But he had also seen the glances Riddle had thrown in Hermione's direction, and it was obvious to Harry he loved her. He really needed the others to understand. Things could turn incredibly disastrous for Hermione if the Ministry would get involved. He hoped he wasn't becoming overly Dumbledorish by trusting the power of love and giving someone a second chance to redeem himself when they all - though some of them grudgingly - accepted his decision._

  


  
_So, Harry walked back into the Head's Office alone. When he arrived, he was glad he had made the others wait. Because he found Riddle on the couch on top of Hermione, kissing her like crazy; and he noticed Hermione was not unresponsive to this. She had her arms wrapped around him. Harry felt he made the right decision after all._

  


  
_He coughed, and the two of them froze on the spot. Riddle moved of Hermione quickly, but he couldn't hide the fact from Harry that he had to withdraw his hands out from underneath her shirt. And they both stared at him rather sheepish and flustered, while Harry told Riddle that he would be escorted to Twelve Grimmauld Place to stay there for the time being._

  


  
_Harry called upon Kreacher and the House-elf arrived immediately. Kreacher was still carrying a much budged up pan. It was clear it could no longer be used for cooking since it, no doubt, was used to smash in the heads of many Death Eaters. Kreacher's head swivelled sideways across the room in clear anticipation. His huge eyes lingered greedily on Tom, because he was the only one the elf was unfamiliar with._

  


  
_'Does Master Harry need me to hit anyone?' Kreacher hopefully asked, and he raised the pan ready to strike._

  


  
_'No, I think we're all done in that department, Kreacher, but I need you to take two guests to Twelve Grimmauld Place.'_

  


  
_Kreacher beamed into the direction of Hermione and Tom. Clearly, having guests over was just as much fun as hitting a wizard over the head with a cooking utensil. 'House guests, wonderful! Kreacher would feel honoured to escort Mistress Hermione Granger to his Master's home.'_

  


  
_'Thank you, Kreacher, but I can't come just yet,' said Hermione. 'I'm going to have to talk with Ron first.'_

  


  
_Riddle snorted, but stopped when Hermione glared at him. So, he left with Kreacher to the Black residence on his own. Harry remembered clearly what Hermione said to him when they were alone afterwards._

  


  
_'This is your solution, Harry? Locking him up at Twelve Grimmauld Place? You do realise he still has his wand on him? If he feels like leaving, I doubt Kreacher will be able to stop him. And this way you're basically inviting him into your house. Do you have…?'_

  


  
_'You were kissing him; yet, you disagree with what I've done?' asked Harry, interrupting Hermione's rant slightly irritated._

  


  
_'He is rather hard to ignore, Harry. I thought you, of all people, would understand that,' Hermione replied coolly. 'This should have been over. Now … who knows?'_

  


  
_'But Hermione, Time would have erased him, because he felt love.'_

  


  
_'Time was wrong, Harry. Time tried to correct what didn't need correcting at all. He was still very much Lord Voldemort.'_

  


  
_Harry shook his head. 'I don't believe that. I can see the difference between him and the other Tom Riddle. He truly loves you, Hermione. I can tell. I've been in his mind so many times.'_

  


  
_'I'm not his keeper, Harry, nor do I intend to be. Yes, he can feel love now. But there is a good reason that door in the Ministry remains closed at all cost. In the wrong hands love can truly be the most destructive force in the universe.'_

  


  
'Potter. Earth to Potter, are you there?' a familiar voice asked.

  


  
Harry shook from his reminiscence and looked straight into a pair of dark eyes who watched him rather amused.

  


  
'I believe we have a class filled with fourth years who would like to hear the answer to that question before we all die of boredom, Potter,' Professor Riddle whispered, smirking.

  


  
Harry chuckled, and he calmly whispered back; 'Never had a daydream before, Riddle? I'm sorry to hear that.'

  


  
After another thirty minutes the lesson was over, and Riddle handed out homework assignments that were the cause of much moaning and groaning. Harry heard his son James complaining to his friends about the ridiculous amounts of essays they already had to write.

  


  
'Mr Potter, if you would have listened to what I said instead of sending notes to the female population in this class, then you would have realised that I did not require anyone to write an essay. I want to see some form of practical evidence in the next lesson that proves you lot have listened to the words of your father and found a way to use his experience in practise. Anyone who dares to bore me with an essay can look forward to some serious detention,' Professor Riddle said strictly.

  


  
James Potter was absolutely delighted when he heard this. And the students exited the classroom, chatting excitedly about what they were going to create. Harry noticed they were all very pleased with their new DADA-teacher.

  


  
'Don't feel up to reading twenty-five essays, Riddle?' Harry asked, amused.

  


  
'Twenty-five? If I gave all my students that assignment, it would be more like a million,' Tom said exaggeratingly. 'Besides, we both know essays don't show someone's true potential in this area of study.'

  


  
'Hmmm… Don't let Hermione hear you say that. I remember how very fond she was of writing essays. She always overdid the amounts of words required by tenfold,' Harry replied.

  


  
Tom sighed upon remembering. 'Why do you think I am not handing out essay-assignments in this class? Rose is even worse than her mother.'

  


  
'Oh yeah, Hermione is the only nerd Rose could have inherited that habit from.'

  


  
Tom narrowed his eyes.

  


  
Harry coughed to cover his laugh.

  


  
'Think you're funny, Potter?'

  


  
'Don't need to be. You are doing a fine job of entertaining me all on your own.'

  


  
'I have never been that lengthy in my…'

  


  
Harry roared with laughter.

  


  
'What?'

  


  
'You, not being wordy; hahahaha!'

  


  
Tom just stared at Harry, who had doubled over in mirth. Subconsciously, his hand tapped on the pocket his wand was in, while quite the number of extremely painful curses was being considered. Sadly, there were none he could get away with, so Tom folded his arms over each other and waited till Harry was done laughing.

  


  
'Speaking of entertaining others,' Harry continued. 'Did you see today's article in the Prophet?'

  


  
'The trash Skeeter writes is always hard to miss. "Salacious activities at Hogwarts! How Hogwarts Professor Hermione Granger is corrupting our children! Write the Headmistress to express your concerns!"' Tom snorted. 'She's got a bad case of envy if you ask me.'

  


  
'Envy?'

  


  
'That Hermione's biography of your life is selling much more copies than hers.'

  


  
'Did you know she came to my office to demand I arrest Hermione for breaking the International Secrecy Act?'

  


  
'What?' Tom laughed. 'You're joking.'

  


  
'No, I am absolutely serious. Rita was furious when I said that muggles consider Hermione's books to be children's fiction and that as such it is not a breach of the Act.'

  


  
'That must have gone over well.'

  


  
'Oh yeah.' Harry made a face. 'I am surprised you haven't heard her screaming about my favouritism to my friends. She was loud enough to be heard at the other end of the galaxy.'

  


  
'Well, then I will look forward to read the article about "The abuse of power Harry Potter, Head of the Auror Department, thinks he can get away with. How our former saviour turned villain."'

  


  
Harry nodded, grinning. 'I am sure Rita won't disappoint you. What was Hermione's response to the article by the way?'

  


  
Tom tilted his head. 'As someone who is not only Hermione's friend but also an officer of the law, do you really want to ask that question?'

  


  
Harry raised his eyebrows.

  


  
Tom snickered. 'Let's just say I believe Skeeter will think twice before writing another article about Hermione like that ever again.'

  


  
'Am I supposed to investigate matters here?' Harry asked, amused.

  


  
'Investigating this…?' Tom mused. 'That would mean you'll have to talk to Skeeter again, be in her lovely company for who knows how long.'

  


  
Harry opened his eyes wide and placed his hands on his chest in mock fear. 'That, Riddle, is without a doubt the vilest threat you ever made to me.'

  


  
Tom shrugged. 'I have my moments.'

  


  
'You don't say. Having to talk to Rita…' Harry shivered. 'I don't want to know that badly.'

  


  
'What don't you want to know?' Hermione asked.

  


  
Harry turned around and smiled when he saw his best friend standing in the doorway. After they hugged, Hermione repeated the question.

  


  
'What kind of crimes Hogwarts Professors are into these days,' Harry answered.

  


  
'Ahhh,' Hermione responded knowingly. 'Think Tom is up-to-something?'

  


  
'Me?'

  


  
'Just look at that innocent face he is pulling right now,' said Hermione.

  


  
'I've seen it before,' said Harry, not turning around.

  


  
'Alright, I'll take my cue to leave you two alone,' said Tom. He tucked his bag under his arm and kissed Hermione. 'I know better than to take you both on at the same time,' he said on his way out.

  


  
'Wow, a first,' Hermione said mischievously.

  


  
Tom looked over his shoulder; the question mark etched on his face.

  


  
'You learning from your mistakes,' she explained.

  


  
'See you around, Potter,' Tom said, ignoring Hermione to her joy.

  


  
'Aren't you coming to the Three Broomsticks tonight?' asked Harry.

  


  
'I wasn't aware I was invited,' Tom said, surprised.

  


  
'Well, I don't expect Hermione to have to come alone, even though you refuse to make an honest woman out of her.'

  


  
'Eh, it's not me refusing anything,' Tom replied, waddling his finger. 'I asked.'

  


  
Hermione groaned. 'Why is it that married friends always want others to make the same choices they did? My life is fine the way it is.'

  


  
'It could be even finer if you just said yes,' Tom added.

  


  
'Thanks a lot for bringing this subject back to his attention, Harry.'

  


  
'Sorry,' Harry said, but it didn't come out quite sincere enough to make Hermione stop glaring at him. 'So, are you coming?' he quickly asked Tom to shift the attention away from an obvious sore ongoing point of disagreement.

  


  
'You're asking _me_ to have dinner with your family. Have you even discussed that with _your_ wife?'

  


  
Harry's reddened face gave away the answer. Hermione sighed.

  


  
'Potter - Potter, you still are a lousy Occlumens,' Riddle said, while clicking with his tongue and shaking his head. He shared a look of understanding with Hermione before he declined the invitation.

  


  
'Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find us,' Harry said, and he shook Tom's outstretched hand.

  


  
'I will keep that in mind,' Tom said pleasantly. 'I'll see you later?'

  


  
'Of course,' Hermione responded. 'I've already finished grading the students' papers, so I have a whole free evening.'

  


  
'Perfect.'

  


  
As Harry watched Tom Riddle leave the classroom, he thought about the strange turn events had taken after he had brought Hermione and Tom into this day and age, alive and well. A choice only a few people were aware of, because they had been able to keep it a secret, since Lord Voldemort's childhood identity was not common knowledge. Only Minerva, Rubeus, Ginny, and Ron still knew about it, beside Hermione and himself. Augusta and Pomona had died after some freak accident a couple of years ago and Horace had developed a rare form of wizarding related dementia.

  


  
Ron and Ginny still weren't happy about Tom being here. Harry knew that, but he felt everything was going to be alright. He and Tom had got pretty close during the time he stayed at Twelve Grimmauld Place. It had been weird being around Tom Riddle so much at first; especially, without getting constant flashes of his feelings and emotions. Their connection was completely severed due to the destruction of the Horcrux inside of him; but even though that might be the case, he could still see the huge difference between this Riddle and the other one.

  


  
And after all, Riddle had nineteen years to become _Him_ again, and he had not crossed the line once. He truly had become a great wizard and an important addition to the wizarding community. He had even found a way to treat severe dragon fire burns. Something Molly Weasley was extremely pleased about. Harry remembered how he had to restrain Ron one more time when Molly hugged Riddle senseless after Charlie's injuries were healed with that smelly ointment. No, his reservations proved wrong. He made the right choice that day in May. Harry realised that if someone would have told him twenty years ago, that one day he would have no problem with Tom Riddle teaching his children Defence Against the Dark Arts, that he would have scolded them from here to the moon and back again. But it was exactly how he felt today, as the door of the classroom closed behind Tom.

  


  
'How did your lecture to the menace that is called fourth grade go?' asked Hermione cheerfully.

  


  
'Without any incidents whatsoever. But from what I read in his rapports, I suppose you're utterly grateful James didn't pick Arithmancy as a subject.'

  


  
'Actually, I think it is a mistake not to have him take such an important class. James could be…'

  


  
The door creaked and Harry and Hermione watched it open slightly. 'Are you sure your dad left?' asked James, grabbing the handle so Rose couldn't open it any further.

  


  
'I just saw him up the staircase to the second floor, and there isn't another DADA-class scheduled for the next hour or so,' Rose responded.

  


  
Harry and Hermione glanced at each other silently.

  


  
'I still think we should go elsewhere,' said James, slightly apprehensive.

  


  
'Don't be such a wuss, Gryff.'

  


  
'Eh, Slyth, it's not your arse that is at stake here. I very much like all my body parts staying attached to each other, if you don't mind.'

  


  
'Nobody is here,' Rose said firmly, and she pushed the door open wide. The two teenagers froze on the spot.

  


  
'Professor Granger, dad…,' James said, shocked.

  


  
'Otherwise known as Mr and Mrs Nobody,' Harry joked.

  


  
'Don't you two have Charms right now?' Hermione asked sternly.

  


  
'We have to do a project together. We thought this classroom would be perfect to practise in,' Rose said without breaking a sweat, the perfect portrayal of innocence.

  


  
James quickly nodded, affirming Rose's statement.

  


  
'A project,' Harry said suspiciously.

  


  
'Yes, we need to do something new with a charm we've already mastered,' Rose replied before James had a chance to say anything.

  


  
'Well, then you better start practising,' said Hermione. 'Come Harry, we'll leave these two to do their homework.'

  


  
Harry frowned at Hermione, but he followed her out anyway when he saw Hermione's expression, warning him to remain silent. The door-handle in hand Hermione turned around to look at the two students, who were smiling in an obvious relieved manner. 'I'll look forward to see what you two have come up with tonight at eight, my office. I am sure you both will impress me or else…' and she closed the door without finishing the sentence.

  


  
'That – that was…,' Harry said, glancing admiringly at Hermione.

  


  
'Yes?'

  


  
'Snape-worthy.'

  


  
'I have my moments.'

  


  
'You don't say,' Harry said, walking ahead. 'Scary teachers this castle has.'

  


  
'Indeed,' Hermione said smirking; her eyes flashed bright red behind Harry's back.

  


  
Meanwhile deep below the castle of Hogwarts, Professor Riddle looked at the four books on the desk before him. He had secretly worked on them for ages now, filling the blank pages with his knowledge, making the additions he deemed necessary to avoid the flaws they had obtained in the past. Potter might have destroyed the originals, but his memory had always been rather exceptional and the theory was still very much imprinted into his mind.

  


  
Unfortunately, two of those books were still annoyingly incomplete. He had never been able to read more than a single chapter of the one, and the other he had never even held onto. But this lack in knowledge was something he planned to correct soon. After all, he did know someone who had read one of those volumes entirely and he knew where she had kept the original back in 1944. On a couple of occasions, Hermione had let little bits of Rowena's theory slip around him and he had recorded those bits too, but soon he would be able to obtain the real thing. Soon, Time would be on his side again. A sly smile made its way to his face.

  


  
It was fortunate that the other two volumes were finished ages ago. He had written them secretively almost immediately after arriving in Twelve Grimmauld Place, which was now nearly nineteen years ago. However, to bestow them with the magic, to get them to activate in the same manner as before, that had proved more challenging than he ever imagined. It had made getting back into Hogwarts a mission once again, because he realised that in this castle he would find the solution to his problems.

  


  
So, he had waited and acted like this disgusting, upstanding citizen of the wizarding community, until everyone around him was lured into a false sense of security. And he knew that, eventually, he would succeed in obtaining a position at Hogwarts, which would enable him to finally meet his goals. It had taken him longer than expected and a lot of intervening whenever McGonagall nearly found a suitable, competent teacher.

  


  
He casually swirled his wand around and a jet of gold hit the written pages. A second flick of his wand and a dash of silver hit the other volume before him. He picked it up and started flipping the pages with a concentrated frown on his face. It wouldn't be long now… Only a few more times and it would be ready. He was _so_ looking forward to, finally, be able to drop this despicable façade and claim back the position that was rightfully his.

  


  
A short nasal "quonk", that resembled an old-time squeeze bulb bicycle horn, interrupted his concentration. He looked up from his book and checked out the green lit Chamber of Secrets, until his eyes fell on the toad. A broad smile spread across his features when he heard the evident crack of the chicken egg beneath it. Swiftly, he placed the book that bore a very familiar title back on the desk. On the cover, it said; "Eternity in Time by Tom Marvolo Riddle, based on the theory of Salazar Slytherin."

  


  
Yes, if there was one thing Tom Marvolo Riddle could agree with Joanne Kathleen Rowling upon, then it had to be the last three words of her epilogue.

  


  
All was well.  
  
---


End file.
